


Prim and Proper

by RighteousMaximus



Series: Prim and Proper 'verse [1]
Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-26
Updated: 2020-02-07
Packaged: 2020-05-20 10:52:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 34,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19375249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RighteousMaximus/pseuds/RighteousMaximus
Summary: Byleth wins a tournament, and a lady's favor.Too bad being raised by the greatest soldier and bishop alike didn't include manners.Written pre-release, but be wary of some spoilers.





	1. Mercenary Style

**Author's Note:**

> (you might be asking "hey why isn't this star wars" and you'd be right but this idea is KILLING ME SO PLEASE READ IT THANKS)  
> Esmé is an OC and a lot of stuff that happens is just my headcanon so

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is her fight song.

Jeralt looked up from his hands, a sublime poker face staring down at the table.  His wife, Esmé, looked up from her mending to her husband and Alois, a small pile of gold in the middle of the table.  So far it looked like Alois had more gold, but his poker face was not as adept as Jeralt's.  

"Listen, Jeralt..."  Alois flicked another gold piece into the pile, drawing a card from the deck.

"Yeah?"  Jeralt used his prosthetic to push a matching piece into the middle of the table, quirking a side of his mouth at Esmé.

"About that bet..."

"About how my daughter couldn't possibly beat Caspar von Berliez in a match of straight fisticuffs?"  

Esmé chuckled, holding one hand in front of her mouth in an air of politeness.  Alois grumbled, raising the bet again.

"Well...can you hear it?"

"Hear what?"  Esmé put down her mending and tilted her head, teal braid falling over her shoulder.

"Alois, I think we can all hear it,"  Jeralt smirked as he revealed a full house.

* * *

"ORA!"  Byleth let out one punch, then another, in quick succession.  The sound of fist hitting ribs echoed throughout the stands and towards the seats, passing over the high rails and towards the VIP tents, where she knew her parents and "uncle" were playing poker.  Caspar let out a shuddering breath and stepped back, falling to one knee.  He gathered himself, launching his fists at her head, trying to catch it between his hands, but she ducked away, landing a solid one-two right to his ribs.  These did it, the young knight falling to his knees for good.

"I yield, dame knight."

Byleth smirked.  No, she snarled.

"ANYONE WANT SOME?!  I'LL MATCH YOU IN ANY WEAPON, BE IT SWORD OR SPELL OR LANCE OR BOW!"

* * *

_"Like this, yes!"  Jeralt held his hands up as five-year-old Byleth slapped his palms, feet in an eager boxing stance._

_"Hee-yah!  Yah!  Pow!"_

_"You don't say pow, sweetheart."_

_"Oh.  That's not fun."_

_"Come on, chickadee.  I'll show how to really punch someone."_

_"And af'er that can you show me all your other cool stuff?"_

_"Huh?  Yeah, sure.  Sword, lance, axe...all that.  You want that, darling?"_

_"Yeah!"  Byleth nodded eagerly, pigtails bobbing in the afternoon light.  "I wanna know everything!"_

_"Well said, kiddo.  Well, that means training.  You up for that?"_

_"Yes sir!"_

_Jeralt barked a laugh, taking his daughter's hand in his._

_"One step at a time."_

* * *

"I see she has your attitude from when we met," Esmé tutted, focused on her mending once again.

"Well, it certainly has its uses...say, what about our other bets?"  Jeralt looked up from his new hand at Alois, smiling confidently over his larger pile of money.

"About how she could beat every single one of Adrestian representatives in a straight fight?  The ones I personally trained?"  Alois threw down his cards, placing his head in his hands.

Jeralt let out a mighty laugh, "well?  Pay up!"

Alois grumbled something about paying up, but relented, pulling out his wallet and throwing more money on the table.  Jeralt went to pick it up, but Esmé smacked her husband in the arm.

"What did we say about betting on our daughter for money?"

"That..."  Jeralt closed his eyes, thinking deeply.  Alois tried not to laugh.  "That it's not okay unless she gets fifty percent."

"Good."  Esmé reached forward to press a kiss to Jeralt's cheek, rubbing his beard fondly.  

* * *

"I, Ferdinand von Aegir, Champion of Adrestian will challenge you!"  Ferdinand rode out on his stallion next, twirling his lance between his hands.  It settled in his right, his left drawing his shield from his saddle.  Byleth looked around, coat swirling behind her as she dashed for a fallen spear, kicking it up into her hands.

"I accept!  And when you taste defeat, what else will the Champion eat?"  Byleth jeered, leaning on her spear lazily.

"Why, you!  I'll show you the strength of the greatest lance of the west!"  And so, he charged.  Byleth settled into a squat position, her mother's words coming to her.

Byleth slashed at the sand, dirt flying up into the poor horse's face.  Ferdinand was clearly not expecting this, his horse rearing up wildly and the knight tumbling to the ground.  Byleth leapt up, using the horse's head to handspring off into a flip, landing on top of the knight.  He kicked her off, rolling to his feet, his lance at the ready.  The two dueled viciously, Byleth staying on defense.  Her eyes darted back and forth from his gaze to his lance-tip until finally she moved forward in a rush.  She hooked his arm and twisted, his lance going flying.  She kept spinning, tripping him off his feet and into the sand.  She held the tip to his throat, eyes stormy.

"I-I yield."

She grinned, and the arena door opened again.

* * *

_"Listen, sweetie,"  Esmé guided Byleth's hand as she brushed her pegasus's downy coat, the beast whinnying in happiness._

_"No matter how strong a rider is, if you deal with the beast first, it makes the rider a lot easier to fight."_

_"Why does a bishop know that?"  Ten-year-old Byleth asked._

_"Ex-bishop, my dove.  And let's say your father taught me some things after we left."_

_"Like what?"_

_"Well, a lot of what you know."_

_"Oh.  Well can you teach me what you know too?"_

_"Your father's regimen not enough?"  Esmé stood up, hands on her hips._

_"Well, I wanna know!"_

_"Alright, dearheart.  I'll teach you what I know.  Archery, reason magic, faith magic, riding and flying - I'll show you it all."_

_"Yay!"_

* * *

"It seems this woman is quite talented, Your Eminence,"  Hubert bowed as he approached his lady, who lounged on her throne.  Normally these tournaments were an excuse to show her friends' strength, but this year was something else...Edelgard looked to her side where Archbishop Rhea sat primly on her own throne.

"Yes, Archbishop?"  Edelgard leaned over, waving a hand at Hubert as he stood to her side.

"That style...that hair...oh, I see.  She must be the child of Sir Jeralt and Bishop Esmé.  Sir Jeralt was the strongest of the Knights of Seiros, and Esmé was actually next in line to ascend to the Archbishop before she left.  And that..." She pointed at Byleth as she hyped up the crowd, the common people cheering with her.

"Must be their daughter.  You know, Sir Jeralt said something about her prowess the other day."

"Oh?"  Edelgard leaned forward, where Petra stepped into the ring.  She drew a sword, throwing another to Byleth who caught it deftly.  The two rushed forward and became blurs of steel and armor.

* * *

_"Archbishop.  Your Eminence," Jeralt bowed to Rhea and Edelgard, clearly on his best manners._

_"Rhea.  Your eminence," Esmé followed up._

_"Ah, Esmé, Sir Jeralt.  So nice to see you.  I'm glad you accepted our invitation."  Rhea nodded at Edelgard, who inclined her head at the mercenaries._

_"Yes, thank you for joining us."_

_"It was our pleasure," Esmé demurred.  "I wish our daughter could join us tonight, but she is currently not feeling well.  We extend our apologies."_

_"It's quite alright, Bishop."  Edelgard responded._

_"Please, I haven't been called that in over twenty years."_

_"She goes by commander, now," Jeralt smiled fondly at his wife and she leaned into his side._

_"You know, I've heard something about that daughter of yours, Sir Jeralt," Rhea put a hand on her chin, Seteth standing eagerly at attention.  "Rumor has it she's mastered every weapon."_

_"Well," Jeralt smirked, "we'll have to see tomorrow, shall we?"_

* * *

Byleth went on the offensive, chasing Petra around the arena, swords sparking as they made contact in a desperate game of parry and riposte.  Petra suddenly drew a short axe into her left hand, launching into a deadly salvo of blade and axe.  Byleth jumped back once, twice, sheathing her blade.

Petra closed the distance, and didn't notice the smirk on Byleth's face.

* * *

"What is she doing...?"  Hubert leaned forward, over the rail, and Rhea smiled beatifically.

"Ah, is she doing Sir Jeralt's signature move?"

"His what - by the gods!"  Hubert leaned back in shock.

* * *

In an instant, Byleth drew her sword and slammed it down.  In a shocking blow she tore past Petra's weapons and slammed the side of the blade into her solar plexus, knocking the air out of her.  Petra gasped once, twice, and fell to her knees.

"You...you fight good.  I yield."

Byleth extended a hand down and pulled her up, guiding her towards the other Adrestians on the sidelines.

* * *

"Hubert."

"Milady?"

"Have at it."

"Milady."

* * *

Byleth looked back at the door, and a man stepped in.

"My name is Hubert von Bestla, the retainer of Her Eminence, Edelgard von Hresvelg.  Will you fight me on the gods' terms, with spell and book?"  He extended one pale hand, dark magic seeping from his palm.

Byleth tossed the sword into the dirt, pulling into her arcane reservoir.  "I accept, von Bestla!"  And with that, she charged.  She ran perpendicular to the sorcerer, jumping and dodging his miasma and hexes as she flung bolt after bolt of ice and lightning at him.

"Not good enough, mercenary!"  Hubert taunted, clapping his hands together, spectral fists slamming Byleth's arms shut.  She cried out in pain, armor screeching.  

"Y...you know, von Bestla...you should never..."

"Hm?  What was that?"  Hubert stepped forward, closer to her.

"Never let your guard down around somehow who also knows faith magic.  Purify!"  A white burst of light erupted from her palms, the lingering fog and haze scattering into the sun.  Byleth took the remaining steps towards the sorcerer and held a hand of fire up to his throat.

"Yield!"

"And you're a fool to think you've won!"  Hubert stomped the sand, a geyser erupting under Byleth's feet.  With a scattered yelp she stumbled backward, rolling at the last minute to dodge another hex.  

"You're a tricky one, aren't you?"  Byleth strafed, trying to keep him talking.

"I'd like to think so.  I'm am milady's retainer and strategist.  And I can clearly tell when someone is stalling for time.  In terms of magic, you have no hope against me.  You're just not strong enough."

Byleth snarled, and her eyes ignited.

"You said you'd best anyone here with their preferred weapon, and you can't beat me.  Yield, mercenary."

"My name is Byleth.  You'd best remember that."

She rushed him, and he backed up, and up, until - 

A wall.

"Sagittae!"  A wall of arrows appeared around Byleth, held at bay by her uncurled hand.

"Yield, von Bestla."

"I...I yield."

"Well, well, well.  It seems we have our victor."  

Byleth turned to the new voice and - 

"Your Eminence," Hubert bowed, and Byleth scrambled to do so as well.

"I - ah - Your Eminence - "

"You fought well, Hubert.  Well done."

"My lady..."

"You.  Byleth, of Jeralt's Mercenaries.  Daughter of Jeralt and Esmé."

"Aye, that is me.  My lady."

"I see.  Please, join me.  We have much to discuss."

* * *

What Byleth was not expecting (or did not want) when she arrived in Edelgard's quarters was to see her parents talking with the Archbishop about 'that one time where Byleth tried lifting an axe too heavy for her and accidentally cut her pants off.'


	2. Under Pressure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Byleth tries to act dignified but is just a feral mess. Enjoy!

Byleth immediately turned around to leave, but Esmé grabbed her arm, a concerned look on her face.

"This always happens, mom," Byleth whispers, arm hanging limply in her mother's grasp.  "I always do really great and then find out you've been...spreading stories about me."

"Darling..."  Esmé put her other hand on her daughter's shoulder, turning her around fully to look her in the eyes.  "It's because we love you and we want to show people another side to you."

"I get that, mother, but the axe story?"  Byleth fully turned around now, Esmé leading her to the table.  "Of all the ones you could tell about me you couldn't have picked one where it shows a good side?"

"Well, the Emperor's already seen your good side," Jeralt's gruff voice came from his seat, and a wry smile appeared on his lips.  "Figured we'd show her the other good parts."

"Yes, Dame Byleth, you were quite impressive," Emperor Edelgard stood this time, and Byleth felt her heart stop.  Just like at the arena, the Emperor towered a good five inches over her, and that was with both women wearing heels.  Once again Byleth cursed her short stature.  "Defeating almost all my friends in combat like it was nothing...but I will admit, hearing stories of your childhood was quite cute."

Byleth felt a flush rise up her neck.

"Guh." 

A very eloquent response.

"Tell me, Dame Eisner - "

"Please, Byleth is quite alright."

Silence.

Rhea looked on with a small smile on her face.

"Did...did you just interrupt her Eminence...?"  Came Hubert's disgusted tone.

"Uh..."

Jeralt and Esmé had matching smiles on their faces.  This was actually going quite well.  She had said 'please' this time.

"It's quite alright, Hubert," Edelgard raised a pacifying hand and the warlock nodded, stepping back slightly.  She gestured again and two guards came to take her heavy coat, one coming for Byleth's as well.  She shrugged them off until finally she handed them her coat, leaving her arms bare.

* * *

Edelgard thought she was polite enough not to stare at Byleth's exposed, muscular arms, and failed.  

* * *

Byleth rubbed her arms briefly before taking a seat.  Like always at what her dad would call "business discussions", Jeralt would be in the middle, Esmé on his left and Byleth on his right.  Across from them sat Rhea and Edelgard, and servants began moving to and fro, pouring wine and leaving food in their wake.

"Well, Rhea, it is good to see you again," Esmé spoke up, swirling a glass of wine elegantly.  "The years have been good to you, it seems."

"Thank you," she responded, politely.  "And to you as well.  I wouldn't have expected you to look as well as you do after having given birth."

"It...was not the easiest thing in the world," Esmé nodded, her right hand slipping to cover Jeralt's prosthetic.  "Luck was with me that day."

"Luck, or the Goddess?"  Edelgard's smooth voice traveled across the table, and all looked at her.

"If I remember correctly, luck is a sign of the Goddess's favor," Byleth chugged a glass of wine, using her sleeve as a napkin.  Rhea smiled beatifically while her parents looked aghast.

"According to the texts from right after the Liberation War, page 37, lines 2-3 go, 'and thus was she protected / from both harm and foul deeds - luck was from/with/of her.'  That second-to-last word differs on the translation used, however."

Silence, again.

"I'm surprised you remember that," Jeralt chuckled, "I fondly remember you ditching books for the training yard."

"Well," Byleth coughed lightly, at least into her elbow this time.  An improvement.  "Mother's curriculum involved an in-depth look at historical and religious books.  While there is current debate about certain affectations the Goddess used and the final location of the Sword of the Creator, I'd like to think I'm up to date on Church literature."

"I wouldn't take you for one to spend time at the library," Edelgard smirked as Byleth used her hands to pick up a pepper and pop it into her mouth.

"I am an expert in all forms of combat, Emperor," Byleth leaned back, and only Jeralt and Esmé's joint stare prevented her from leaning the chair back.  "And thus I must keep my body ready at all times.  And is not the mind part of the body?  I'm not the brightest student of biology, but I do try to stay in the times.  For example, I am on first-name basis with the message runner from the mage's academy in Faerghus whenever they publish a new work.  Word is Annette Dominique and Mercedes von Maltritz are working on a thesis involving black beasts and battalion-focused purification magic."

"You seem like one well-informed young woman, Miss Byleth," Rhea kept her smile up, but she seemed tense.

"Don't patronize me.  You thought I'd be some dumb meat-head mercenary, even after I outwitted your strategist."  Byleth chugged another glass of wine and slammed it down on the table.  Esmé had a worried look while Jeralt seemed...proud?

"That's why your attendance rates to church services has been historically low.  And why your tithing donations from most low-income groups are dwindling.  You sit here in your high towers and look down.  That's it.  I'm done."  Byleth stood up, abruptly, and turned to leave.

"Jeralt - "  Esmé looked between her family but Jeralt just let out a small chuckle.

"Let her go, dearest.  When has she ever held her tongue?"

"True,"  Esmé grumbled, before directing her attention to a shocked Rhea and a smiling Edelgard.  "I would like to apologize on behalf of my daughter.  I thought she'd have better manners than this, but it seems..." she trailed off, one hand gesturing vaguely in her daughter's direction.

"I - well - that - "  Rhea stumbled through a few more words before raising her hand, Seteth stepping up behind her.  

"That will be all.  Thank you for hosting this, your Eminence.  Dame Esmé.  Sir Jeralt.  We shall see you on the morrow when the Faerghus and Leicester representatives arrive."

"And another chance to see your daughter dominate again, hm?"  Edelgard smiled behind her wine glass.

"Hmph."  Rhea turned and left, Seteth and guards surrounding her.

"Well, just the three of us now, hm?  Well, four if you count Hubert, and more if you count all the armed guards."  Edelgard looked up to another servant dropping a plate of steak and she daintily cut into it.  "Thank you, Johann."

"Are you close with your staff, your Eminence?"  Esmé smiled tersely at Edelgard before looking at her husband.  "Do you need your fork hand?"

"That would be great, dear."

"I'd like to think so, yes."  Edelgard began to speak as Esmé rummaged around in a bag next to her, various clanking sounds emerging.  "Most of them have been with me ever since I was a child and they've born witness to the trials I have faced."

"Your trials?  You mean at the Officer's Academy?"  Jeralt looked up from his plate, a raised eyebrow at the ready.

"Before that, Sir Jeralt.  While I bear the Crest of Seiros required for the throne, there were several...half-siblings of mine that were not pleased."

"Assassination," Esmé whispered, and Edelgard nodded.

"Indeed."

"And they couldn't put aside their differences to get along, huh?"  Jeralt added, having little difficult with the meal now.

"Of course not.  The Adrestian Empire has never been good at getting along.  But I am trying.  Nothing will change unless we change it, and if that means I have to rip up nearly a thousand years of tradition then so be it."

Silence sank in as they enjoyed their meal.

"Well, we wish you the best in your endeavors," Jeralt finally said, and Esmé looked pleased for once.  

"If you'll excuse me for a moment," Esmé got up, squeezing Jeralt's shoulder and briskly walking out.

There was an awkward pause.

"So, your Eminence."

"Please call me Edelgard.  I've...never been one to stand on formality all too often.  In front of the Archbishop, of course, but, you know..."

"You ramble when you're nervous."

"Huh?"

"I'm willing to make a deal with you, Emperor.  I'm sure a lot of Adrestians aren't happy with your reforms."

"You've been in my territory, you should know that it's mostly nobles."

"Of course.  You know what I mean."  Jeralt leaned back, and Edelgard immediately saw that family resemblance.  "But I think you could use extra protection."

"Are you offering your services?"  Edelgard glared coolly over the table.

"Somewhat.  Protection detail.  More than likely, Adrestian nobles will fall back on age-old solutions - hiring bandits to attack other nobles on the road.  They use guerrilla tactics and fear strategies to throw all your officially trained soldiers out of balance, then rush in and kill.  We're not just common mercenaries, Emperor.  We're trained.  Disciplined.  And knowing what your enemies are doing is half the battle."

"That's not all, is it?  Sir Jeralt?"

"Well...we could help you.  Advise you on certain matters.  A lot of your reforms are good on paper, but we could...show you a rougher side."

"Your Eminence, I must object," Hubert stepped forward, concern etched into his face.  "This could be a trap."

"Really, Von Bestla?  Well, aren't you an apple falling very far from the tree."

"Pick your next words carefully, mercenary."

"I'm just saying you're actually smart.  Wary.  Good to have in a retainer.  But then you miss out on what my wife calls 'human kindness'."

"I'm not a child, Sir Jeralt.  Try to remember the times you used to be a Knight of Seiros," Hubert barked, and Jeralt laughed.

"I haven't been one in over twenty years, kid.  It's just...you nobles always forget the common folk.  We could be that common touch you need, and another layer of defense.  Besides, I saw you looking at my daughter's arms," Jeralt winked at Edelgard and her face almost matched her attire in color.

"Anyway, I think that concludes this meeting.  I'll be around the next few days when Faerghus and Leicester show up, but then, I'll hope you'll consider my offer.  Protection, education, who knows?  Your Eminence.  Von Bestla."  Jeralt slapped his thigh and stood with a groan.

"I'm getting too old for this."

* * *

"That wasn't like you, dear."  Esmé draped her daughter's coat over her, sitting on a balcony overlooking the monastery.  

"Hm?"

"You normally hold your tongue better."

"Well...I'm sorry."

"It's alright, darling," Esmé sat down next to Byleth, an arm wrapping around her.  "Just let it out."

"It's just - " Byleth sighed, brows furrowed.  "I always feel like I'm underestimated.  Because I'm a woman.  Because I'm a mercenary.  Because I read too much.  Because of a thousand reasons that I contradict myself.  I'm tired of it."

"Who's been saying that?"  

"Everyone."

"Mm.  I don't say that about you.  Your father doesn't."

"You can't, you're contractually obligated to love me."

"I'd disagree but I have a contract from you when you were about three that we were hired to love you forever."

"Mother..."

"Ah, there you two are."  Jeralt stepped out onto the balcony and smiled.  "Why don't we head back to the tent?  I'll get Esther to start up the fire and we'll all cook something nice.  How does that sound?"

"I'd love that.  What do you think, dear?"  Esmé squeezed Byleth tighter and she closed her eyes, embarrassed.  

"I think that'd be great."

* * *

"Well, Your Eminence?  What will you do?"  Hubert stood behind Edelgard, at the ready as the two foreign delegations rolled into the monastery.

"After this, if you could bring Dame Byleth to my box, that would be excellent."

"Your Eminence?"

"I've given it some thought, Hubert.  She was right about some things."

"I see.  I will trust your judgment.  Ah, here they are."

"Five years ago, we promised we'd meet here as classmates.  Dimitri, Claude.  Welcome back."

"Ah, Edelgard!  A pleasure as always."  Dimitri bowed, finely brushed hair showing his eyepatch.

"Your Eminence.  Congratulations on your ascension," Claude winked, bowing sardonically.

"Please, are we not friends?  Come, come.  There is much to discuss."

* * *

"So, who are you using for this event?  Who is this outsider that somehow defeated all your champions?"  Dimitri swirled his glass of wine as they overlooked the arena as the announcer's voice boomed in the background.

"You'll see, old friend," Edelgard chided.

"I've heard it's a mercenary.  Byleth Eisner, of Jeralt's company."  Claude hummed thoughtfully, hand stroking his beard.

"You hear correctly."

The doors opened to reveal Byleth striding through, her coat gone.  Her sword was in one hand, and wrapped around her left bicep was a red strip of cloth.

"So who are you sending out first, Dimitri?"  Edelgard turned to smile, and he frowned.

"Some old friends of mine."

A pegasus swooped down from the air as a paladin stormed through the opposite gates, linking across the sand to face the mercenary.

"Two-on-one?  How cunning, Dimitri," Claude leaned on the railing, a glimmer in his eye.

"This should be interesting." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lololol big tahnks to the support from the 3h discord y'all are great. as always leave a kudos/comment fi you enjoyed!


	3. 25 Years Prior - The Meaning of Strength

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What does it mean, to be strong? We look 25 years in the past at rookie knight Jeralt, the young priestess Esmé, and what it means to be strong and victorious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (if you couldn't tell, not a lot of edeleth, but next chapter! Just needed to write this shit.)

Jeralt dozed, lazily, in a somewhat-drunken half-stupor.  He groaned lowly, rubbing his eyes.  He looked around and recognized the drab beige walls of the infirmary, and felt the cotton sheets on his legs.  He touched his chest, feeling the clean shirt, and laid back with another groan.

"Well, Sir Eisner," a nurse walked in, teal hair in a short bob, "seems you're back here again."

"Oh...one of you," Jeralt closed his eyes, taking a sigh, "what happened to me?"

"Alois and Gilbert dragged you back with you half-dead on your horse last night," the nurse pulled over a tray and sat it on his lap, pouring him a glass of water and putting down a bowl of oatmeal.  "Looks like the bandits you fought at Magdred lured you into a trap and attacked your blindside.  A rookie move."

"'Rookie move'?" He repeated, taking a sip of water.  "I won't take that from someone who's not strong.  Who doesn't have the martial prowess to fight like we Knights of Seiros do."

"Hmm," the nurse hummed, "you know, everyone has been talking about you.  How you're the strongest Knight to have ever enlisted."

"They talk correctly," Jeralt bared his teeth.

"Doesn't seem like it from last night.  Word also is you don't use your head."

"Who needs tactics when you're the strongest physically?"

"Sir Jeralt," the nurse leaned down and grabbed one of his hands.  She wrapped his fingers around her wrist and she raised a wan smile.  "You could break my wrist without sweating.  But on a battlefield, I'd beat you ten times out of ten.  I wouldn't even have to move an inch."

"Bold words.  Pretty words too,  _nurse_.  Does that also include not lifting a weapon?"

"My name," she growled, leaning closer, ripping his hand off her arm, "is Esmé.  I hope you remember that tomorrow."

"Whatever.  Just shut up and heal me."

"No."

"What?"

"Didn't they teach you manners?"  Esmé shot at him.

"Didn't they teach you healing?" Jeralt shot back.

Esmé let the silence build for a bit before Jeralt relented.  "Fine.  Can you please heal me?"

"Of course," she smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes.  She waved a hand over him and he felt the faith magic work, his wounds healing.

"I'll see you on the training grounds tomorrow.  Right after the midday meal."

And with that, she left.

Jeralt didn't see her go.

* * *

Jeralt practiced his lance thrusts as he waited.  Surely, she wouldn't stand him up, right?

"L-listen, Jeralt," Hanneman muttered as he paced, one hand running up and down his bowstring.  "This Esmé...I've heard of her in my reason classes.  She's no joke."

"But she's not stronger than me.  No one is!"  He lunged deeply, and Alois let out a loud laugh.

"And there's that famed bluster of yours!"  Alois joked, slapping his knee.  He bent down and picked up his heavy breastplate, stopping next to help Gilbert with his.  The four men had all joined the Knights of Seiros at around the same time, and had quickly become fast friends.

"Indeed," Gilbert nodded, thanking Alois for his assistance.  "How is your resistance to magic, Jeralt?"

"Who needs it?" 

"You did a few nights ago when that mage caught you unawares," Hanneman coughed into his sleeve, and Jeralt glared at him.  "I'm right!"

"Yeah, but you don't need to say it!"  Alois clapped the mage on the back, nearly sending him flying with the impact.  "Let the man have his dignity."

"Grr...if I can't be the strongest, what's the point?  If I can't beat everyone, why?"

"Because that is not real strength," Esmé said as she stepped into the ring.  "Sir Eisner.  Sir Hanneman, Sir Alois, Sir Gilbert."

"Ah!  Sister Esmé," Hanneman bowed, "a pleasure as always."

'Yes, yes!  Now, on with the show!"  Alois clapped, and Gilbert smacked him lightly with an armored fist, the man quickly quieting.

"So, Sister Esmé," Jeralt growled as he turned to face her.  "You said you could beat me without moving an inch.  Ready?"

"Of course."  Esmé lifted a hand, and magic began to seep from her palm.  Jeralt's mind raced to a strategy - a direct rushing attack.  Feint a stab towards the abdomen, then sweep the leg.  Next he'd - 

His mind stopped as a wall of arrows surrounded him.

"What."

Esmé smiled.  "Yield.  What has your vaunted strength gotten you?"

Jeralt darted to the left, but Esmé flicked her finger and one of the bolts landed right between his legs.  He moved right, and a triplet of arrows landed in a triangle on his shield.  He went to roll forward, and a grouping of bolts pinned his hood to the ground, preventing him from getting up.  He grunted and groaned, struggled to move, and stopped as he felt a magic arrow touching his throat.

"Yield, Sir.  You know, if you thought better you could've beaten me."

"Wh-what do you mean?"  He panted heavily, eyes shifting wildly.

"If you knew your strategy, you'd know that in the first few seconds when I stepped into the ring, I was still preparing the spell.  A Sagittae of this caliber takes time to produce.  You could have easily skewered me on the spot if you hadn't waited.  Or you could have thrown your lance.  While I was still holding the spell, I could not have had time to raise a shielding rune.

"So you see, Sir Eisner," the arrows faded, and he bounced to his feet, "I figured you out from the start.  I'm sure I'll see you in a few days when another mission winds you up right back in the infirmary.  Good day, Sir Jeralt.  Sir Hanneman, Sir Gilbert, Sir Alois."  And with that, she bowed and walked away, having not moved a single inch.

Jeralt dropped his spear with a poomf as the dust spread around its impact.

What was his strength good for, if he couldn't beat one reedy priestess? 

* * *

So he trained and trained and rammed his head into a wall and Alois laughed (the traitor) and he asked Hanneman for tactical help and Gilbert provided support and then - 

"Jeralt!  We have a new mission!"  Hanneman ran up to him on the training field as he practiced his javelin tosses.

"Yeah?  What is it?"

"Alois, Gilbert!  Get over here!"  Hanneman waved at the two armored knights, and they trundled over.  "We've got a new mission.  Seems that Varley is dealing with an influx of Western Church dissidents, and the Archbishop wants us to deal with them.  The Archbishop is also sending us a priest who's requested field work.  It'll be nice to have more support, won't it?"

"Hmm?  Yeah, sure."  Jeralt nodded, eyes distant.

"Hey, Jeralt?  You all right?"  Gilbert placed a hand on his friend's shoulder, concerned.

"Yeah, fine.  Just...thinking.  Who could they send?"

"I believe that would be me.  Afternoon, gentlemen."  They all turned to see Esmé, a bag on her back, a bow in her hand, and a cheerful smile on  her face.

"Ah, the lovely humbling sister!" Alois guffawed, clapping.  "So glad to have you with us.  Now Hanneman will stop complaining about being the only archer and the only healer!"

"Maybe I wouldn't have to heal so much if you didn't weigh so much in that armor of yours," Hanneman snarked and Gilbert held back a chuckle.

"Now, now," Gilbert chided.  "Let's give our dear leader in charge a break.  So, Jeralt?  What's the plan?  Charge in again?"

"No...no," Jeralt closed his eyes, nodding.  "We play it smart this time.  Besides, someone showed me what it means to win."  He pulled out a map and spread it in front of him, the rest of the team closing in.

"This is Varley," he circled the city on the map.  "Western Church should, logically approach from the west, and from the western suburbs.  Let's scout out the brushwork and nearby woods and see if they've got any encampments.  We'll see from there."

"Question!"  Alois raised his hand and Jeralt sighed.

"This isn't a classroom."

"Yes!  Will we still get to do a full charge at some point.  I do really like doing that."

"And he's in armor too, so it's...very visible," Hanneman muttered.

"Well, 'captain'?"  Esmé raised an eyebrow.  "Shall we head out?"

Jeralt rolled the map shut and picked up his lance.  "Let's roll out."

* * *

"Alright!  Dinner's ready!"  Esmé called out, standing up and dusting off her frock.  She had unanimously been voted to cook since apparently Alois and Gilbert could turn food into steel and Hanneman always used too much salt.  "I made a lot, so eat up!"

"Thank you, Sister!" Alois charged up, bowl in hand as Esmé ladled stew into it.  He dashed back, excited, as Jeralt still stared through his eyeglass from the outcropping.  They had set up camp on the top of a ridge overlooking Varley and the neighboring towns, and sure enough, there was a small Western Church camp to the west.  

"Looks like smoke signals," Hanneman looked up from his journal as he continued to sketch.  "I think I might be able to decipher them."

"Go for it," Jeralt said without looking away, trying to keep track of the moving, distant figures.  "Seems like...twenty people are there.  Four horses.  Either mounted fighters or they're just using them to go in and out of the city.  From the flashiness of the uniforms, looks like one captain, two commanders.  Captain's wearing mage robes, the commanders are snipers of some sort.  Two priests.  And lookie here...we've got some armor knights."

"Did...did you want me to write this down, Jeralt?"  He finally looked back to Hanneman who sat there with two bowls of stew.  Jeralt gave him a look and Hanneman passed him a bowl.

"I did, yes.  I'm sorry for not saying so.  Do you remember what I said?"

"O-of course.  One second."  He scrambled back to his pack and roll, grabbing his notebook and writing frantically in between bites of food.

"So," Gilbert walked up next, stew in his hands as well.  "She's a pretty good cook."

"Mm.  What would you do here?"

"As in, looking ahead at combat?"

"Mm."

"Well," He sat down, stroking his chin.  Jeralt offered him the eyeglass and he took it, roving the camp.  "Looks like they have only one perimeter line.  Only one guard post.  Take that out, then you, Hanneman and Esmé, strike randomly all over the camp.  Then when you've got them distracted, we group up and scatter them in one fell blow.  But you never take my suggestions, so...why?"

Jeralt sighed, trying the stew.  Goddess, it tasted really good.  He swallowed.  "Well...just realizing I'm not that strong."

"Oh?"

"Yeah.  If Esmé could beat me just like that...I need to get smarter and stronger.  So I can...I don't know.  Why am I getting strong?"

"Sounds like a personal question.  Hope you can figure it out.  But what's the plan for tomorrow?"

"Everyone get some shut-eye!"  Jeralt turned and directed his voice to the fire.  "Tomorrow we're heading into town.  We're gonna go undercover."

Esmé smiled.

* * *

"So, we're a mercenary troop?  Is this why you had us all wear cloaks?" Alois picked at his garment distastefully.

"Yeah, we wouldn't be good at hiding ourselves if we all wore stuff that announced we're with a group that the people we're trying to find hate!"  Hanneman's voice rose as he spoke, but he restrained himself at the end.

"Exactly," Jeralt nodded.  "We're just here to investigate and see what's happening.  Can't go wrong with too much intel.  Alright."  He turned and stopped, the rest stopping in time.  

"Let's split up.  Alois, Gilbert, head to a knight's guild or mercenary's guild and see what people are saying.  Hanneman, go to the tavern and ask what the common folk are saying."

"And me, captain?"  Esmé smiled, brushing the dirt and dust off her cloak.  

"We're going to get into a religious argument."

* * *

"Report."  Jeralt nodded from the shadows, Hanneman sliding up next to him. 

"Seems the westerners are more annoyances.  Preaching a lot, handing out pamphlets...even worse, seems some of them like drawing blades when people won't make a donation."

"Insidious."

"Exactly.  What are you - oh.  I see."  Hanneman stood on his tiptoes and looked over where a crowd had gathered around Esmé and one of the priests from the Western Church.  All the two men could hear was raised voices and accusations.

* * *

"Not only are you failing to understand one of basic translations, your whole ideology is flawed!"  Esmé shouted, angered.  But on the inside, she was enjoying this.  She didn't even notice the crowd, or how the priest began to reach behind his back.

"SHUT UP!!!"  The priest shouted, springing for her.  She stumbled back, and then - 

Tink.

She opened her eyes to see Jeralt in front of her, arms crossed over his chest. 

"This is why I wear armor," she heard him say.  "So that a measly little knife like that doesn't kill me.  Scram."

The priest did so.

"Y...you didn't need to do that," Esmé averted her eyes but Jeralt extended a hand (when did she fall?) and pulled her up.  He smiled at her, and she smiled back.

"Well...I did anyway.  Couldn't have let my healer stay in danger."

"Of-of course."  She coughed.  "Where were we?"

"We're going to collect our two knightly friends and head back to camp.  We have everything we need to make an attack tonight.  I'll wager the priest will wend his way back to their camp and put them on alert.  And right as they change shifts..."

"I see.  An excellent plan.  But I think discussing it here is somewhat foolish."  

Now he noticed the crowd.

"Ah.  Right.  Stay close to me."

"Sir Jeralt!"  She grabbed his arm and he shoved his way through the crowd of townspeople, waving his arm up and in a circle.  

* * *

"So, it seems you two are getting along now," Alois chuckled as they waited at camp.  This was always the worst part of any operation, Jeralt mused.  The waiting.  It didn't bother him before, but now...

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean," Jeralt grumbled.

"You and the Sister, of course.  I didn't think the religious girl was your type."

"Alois, I don't care for your jokes at the lightest of times."

"I'm not joking.  It's rather cute."

"Alois."

"See, I still remember when you were all broody about 'being the strongest' and 'dah dah dah'.  I'm glad you've changed."

"Alois?"

"Yeah?"

"Please stop talking."

"Yeah."

"It's time.  Everyone, let's go!  Like we planned!"

* * *

Five on twenty seemed like good ideas, Jeralt agreed.  Each of them was worth at least ten westerners.  But then it turned out that after the debacle today they had called reinforcements, including a War Master.  Five on thirty didn't seem bad either, but the War Master was tough.  

The first few sneak attacks went well.  Disabling the sentries had been easy and the first three or four runs had gone well, but then they rallied, and Jeralt had decided to charge.  They had mopped up most of the fighters but then...

"Move, and I kill her."  The War Master barked.  He was a hulk of a man, all muscle and furs.  With one beefy arm he held an axe, and the other was wrapped around Esmé's throat.  Jeralt swallowed thickly.

"You don't want to do this," Jeralt said, sliding off his horse.  He still held his lance but he was wary, his eyes darting between that huge axe and Esmé.  

"Not a step closer or she dies!"  The Master snapped, his arm digging in a bit tighter.  

"Alright."

He looked to Esmé and he saw her mouthing something.  It looked like...'keep him talking'.  She jerked her head up, feebly, and he saw a glimmering arrow behind the War Master's head.  Alright.

"Weapons down, men," Jeralt directed his voice behind him and he heard the clattering of their weapons.  "Why are you doing this?"

"Because this is all your fault!" The War Master snapped, spit flying from his maw.  "If you damned centrists hadn't stuck your noses in where they didn't belong we would've had a successful conversion!"  

"Conversion...the central monastery has held religious dominion over almost the entirety of Fódlan," Hanneman whispered, "if they got most of the Adrestian Empire..."

"Mm.  So.  Where do you go from here?  Are you going to kill her?"

"If I have to.  Here's how it's going to happen.  You're gonna stay right there.  I'll leave the wench at the river two miles west of here.  Alive or dead depends on if you follow me."

"Actually," Esmé whispered as the glow in her hands spread up her arms, "don't ever call me that.  You won't have a choice, though."

"What?"  He pushed her away and turned around, to see the wall of arrows, nearly fifty arrows by fifty arrows.

"Allow me to demonstrate!"  And the bolts impacted one after another.

* * *

_"And at that moment...I realized your mother was the one," Jeralt said to a ten-year-old Byleth._

_"Wow..." Byleth said, amazed.  "So what was your answer?"_

_"Hm?"_

_"About what strength is?"_

_"Well, kiddo," he ruffled his daughter's hair, smiling.  He looked up to see Esmé smiling as well, leaning against a weapons rack.  "Nowadays it's about protecting the people close to me.  Like you and your mother.  You both are so important to me."  He pulled Byleth into a hug, pressing a kiss to her head._

_"Well said," Esmé walked closer, getting in the group hug as well.  "Now if you're ready, I do have dinner done.  Come along, won't you?"_

_The two gladly followed._  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mm, tasty romance. Please leave a kudos/comment if you liked. Big thanks to prof babeleth's discord server and Marisa for the support. Jeralt, as we saw from the previews, is a Paladin, Hanneman is a Dark Bishop, Alois and Gilbert are Fortress Knights and Esmé is a Bishop. Or that's what they're "classed" as in this chapter.
> 
> pleaSE. LEAVE A COMMENT. MAKES ME WRITE MORE.


	4. Taking Flight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Byleth and her sword make an impression on the leaders of the continent.

Byleth balked.  

Only for a second.

It was something her father had said constantly during her training - 

* * *

 _"A slow knight is a dead one," Jeralt said as he sharpened a dagger.  He dragged it slowly on the whetstone attachment for his prosthetic, Esmé humming as she mended one of Byleth's training shirts.  "If you have to stop and think, you're a goner.  That's why we train - so that in_ any _situation, you know what to do."_

_"Like what kind of situations?"  Byleth sharpening her own knife, squatting in the same position her father took._

_"Well, if you're outnumbered and flat-footed," Jeralt leaned up, Byleth mirroring him.  Esmé tried not to laugh.  "Lots of situations.  Let's say your mother threw a nosferatu spell at you - "_

_"Not that I would - " Esmé chimed in._

_"Or you're flanked on both sides, or you've got a falcon knight and a paladin riding at you full tilt.  Let's go with that one.  What do you do?"_

* * *

"I am Sylvain Jose Gautier!"

"And I am Ingrid Brandl Galatea!  Twin knights of Faerghus!"

"Prepare to face our might!  Hey, Ingrid, that went pretty well!"  Sylvain turned to Ingrid with a cheesy smile and Ingrid scowled.

"Sylvain!  Focus!"

"Alright, alright!  Prepare yourself lady knight!"  Sylvain and Ingrid pointed their lances at Byleth and charged her, midday light glinting on their blades.

* * *

_"Well..." Byleth chewed on her lip.  "I dunno."_

_"Remember, darling," Esmé nodded, not looking from her mending, "it's always fine to call for help.  It's why we're mercenaries and not lone wolves, why we act like a family."_

* * *

The three leaders leaned on the bannister overlooking the arena, wine slowly draining.  They looked all a bit closer when Byleth sheathed her blade, put two fingers to her lips and whistled

"What is she doing?"  Dimitri squinted his good eye, left hand tightening on the rail.

"Come now, Dimitri," Claude shifted onto one hip, taking a long draw of wine.  "You have a horse.  And a pegasus is just a horse with wings.  No one whistles like that unless - "

"Unless they're expecting something to arrive," Edelgard finished, a smile on her face.

* * *

_"This is Ilyia," Esmé fed the pegasus gently, Byleth putting one hand on her flank.  "We found each other just before you were born."_

_"What do you mean?"_

_"I didn't find her, and she didn't find me.  Your father and I were in some nameless village in Faerghus, laying low to wait for you to arrive."_

_"Yeah?"  
_

_"Yes.  We were hiding out, helping where we could.  Every village needs a good lance and a healer.  And one day, I was going out hunting for herbs when I found Ilyia.  No barding, no emblems.  She could've been wild-born or a runaway from the Faerghusian Pegasus Corps.  And Ilyia - "_

_The pegasus whinnied, shaking her wings, wrapping Byleth under one, who giggled quietly._

_"Yes, who's a good pegasus?  Well, at first she was very rude.  Ate on her own, looked after herself, but gradually, she let me ride her.  And just before you were born, when..."  Esmé paused, unsure.  Even at a young age Byleth knew that her birth was rough._

_"When it looked dicey and no one else could heal, Ilyia came in and left a feather.  And she stayed with me throughout the night, her and your father, and then...you were born."  Esmé smiled at Byleth and ran a reassuring hand up and down Ilyia's head.  "So.  You want to start your flying training?"_

_"Mm!"  Byleth nodded, sliding out from under Ilyia's wing, Esmé placing her daughter on the pegasus's back.  "No saddle?"_

_"If you can learn to ride bareback, you can ride anything."_

_"Yes ma'am!"_

* * *

Byleth rolled to the side, under the twin lances.  She felt the red strip of cloth constrict around her bicep, her sword slapping against her thigh.  Come on, come on - yes!  She looked up, briefly scrambling away from Sylvain, and sprinted away.

"Ah, the lady shows her cowardly colors!  Hey, Ingrid, did you like the alliteration?"

"It was good, but get her!"  Ingrid soared down, Byleth drawing her blade to slap the lance away into the ground, shifting back around to run in circles in the sand.  And then, Ilyia came in for landing.  Byleth ran parallel to the steed, jumping on swiftly.  Ilyia whinnied around the lance in her mouth, Byleth leaning forward to grab it.

"Good girl, Ilyia.  Good girl.  Now let's fly!"

* * *

_"Dame Eisner."_

_"Please, Your Eminence.  Call me Byleth.  I would like to apologize for my behavior last night."  Byleth inclined her head, Hubert looking down his nose at her._

_"Byleth.  I would like to offer you this."  Edelgard extended a strip of red cloth, identical in color to her attire.  Byleth took it, a question on her face._

_"Tomorrow, my old academy friends Dimitri and Claude are arriving here.  And by that I mean King Dimitri of Faerghus and Lord Claude of the Leicester Alliance.  They will probably send their own champions into the ring.  And with how handily you defeated my own cohorts - " Hubert snorted at this and Edelgard's lips quirked in a small smile._

_"I would like you to represent the Adrestian Empire, and by proxy, me, in the arena."_

_"Why?"_

_"Your father...last night I made a deal with him.  I imagine we'll be spending time together more in the future.  If you win," Edelgard's gaze turned down to the red favor, extending a gauntleted hand to close Byleth's fingers over the cloth.  "If you win, I'll accept in full."_

_"Alright."_

_"That's it?"  Hubert squinted his eyes, dubious.  "No contract?  No money amount?"_

_"I'm sure my father will hammer that out.  I just fight.  He makes the decisions."_

_Edelgard frowned._

_"But I accept, Your Eminence," Byleth bowed.  "Von Vestra, catch."  She took off her coat and tossed it on the retainer, squawking in the process.  With teeth and hand she tied the cloth around her left bicep and Edelgard tried again not to flush at the exposed muscle.  It took a lot of willpower._

_Byleth straightened up, the favor bright against the blacks, greys and whites of her outfit.  She bowed again, "Your Eminence.  I will return with victory."  And with that she turned away and left, Hubert finally straightening himself out from her coat._

_"Well, Your Eminence?" Hubert humphed, regaining composure._

_"I think Claude and Dimitri will be handed some very good losses."_

* * *

Byleth...loved flying.  She loved a lot of things about her life.  Training, improving her skills, all that.  Byleth held a few memories always close to her heart - seeing her mother and father together, beating her father for the first time in combat, her first healing spell, her first flight - 

She soared.  Riding bareback was freeing in a way, nothing coming between her and Ilyia, just the two of them and the open skies.  But not this time.  Dame Galatea picked up speed towards her as Sir Gautier shouted encouragement from the ground.  Byleth braced her lance across her shoulders, cracking her neck back and forth as she and Dame Galatea arrived on the same plane.

"Dame Eisner.  You are Emperor Von Hresvelg's champion, are you not?"

"Aye.  Let us fight on equal terms, Dame Galatea!"

* * *

"Can you see what's happening?"  Jeralt shaded his eyes with his flesh hand, staring up at his daughter and Lady Galatea dueling in the skies.

"I'm just happy we brought Ilyia along."  Esmé patted Jeralt's thigh.

"She would've come no matter what we would've done."

"I know you don't like her, but she means a lot to our daughter," Esmé admonished to Jeralt's resounding snort.  Some nearby nobles turned to look at him and he sneered.

"Yeah, I know."

"I'm proud of her, Jeralt."

"Me too, Esmé.  I am so proud of her."

"Oh!"  Esmé pointed up, to where the two fliers descended quickly, Byleth almost chasing her foe.  "Look at that!"

* * *

"Sylvain..."  Byleth heard Ingrid say to the paladin as they exchanged quick words and a kiss.  Hm!  Interesting.  Ingrid flew up and out, and Byleth slid off Ilyia, patting the steed fondly on the nose.

"Good girl.  Good girl.  Come on, get!"  She patted Ilyia's flank and the pegasus took off, whinnying.  Now, to deal with the paladin.  With nary a word he charged, Byleth running head on at the charging warrior.  Byleth tossed her lance to the side, drawing her sword as she darted forward.  She almost missed Sylvain's grin as he turned around, his horse's back legs kicking back and out as they impacted Byleth directly.

* * *

Edelgard sucked a breath in through her teeth as Byleth went flying back, tumbling through the dirt.  

"Ouch!"  Claude smirked as he peered over the rim of his glass.  

"Indeed," Dimitri mused, sharing a small nod with Dedue.  Hilda and Lorenz stopped their conversation with Hubert as they all turned toward the arena.

"Will this be the end of Dame Eisner's run?"  Claude mused.  "Or...?"

* * *

Byleth pulled herself up, using her sword as a crutch.  And here came Sylvain, a triumphant grin on his face.  Her heart burned.  

"Warp," she whispered, and disappeared as Sylvain thundered through.

"What...?"  Sylvain turned this way and that, and did not see as Byleth materialized three feet above him in a spin.  She let out a war cry as she landed, sword smacking into Sylvain's back and sending him off his horse.  She vanished again as he scrambled to his feet, sweeping his lance back and forth.  She burst out of a fog of faith magic, slashing and slicing as she disappeared again.

"Show yourself!"

"Hmm...no."  She struck a solid punch to his ribs before backflipping away into the mist of Warp.  "You guys didn't fight fair by teaming up.  So I won't."

Sylvain frowned, and the next thing he knew was a blade tip pushing his chin up.

"Also if you flirt with me I might legitimately kill you."

"Point taken, Dame Eisner.  I yield."  He dropped his lance and tried to bow with a sword at his throat.

"Cute."  She dropped her sword and then turned back to the crowd, silent.

"ALRIGHT, EVERYONE!"  She pumped her arms, the crowd getting to their feet.  "WHO'S NEXT!  OH LIONS AND DEER, FEARSOME CREATURES!  SHOW ME YOUR MIGHT!"

* * *

"Where does she get this?"  Both Esmé and Dimitri asked.

"I genuinely don't know," Both Jeralt and Edelgard responded.

* * *

Byleth's grin was sharklike as her next opponent came in.  He didn't even introduce himself, just blades drawn and into the fight.  She  _loved_ it.  This is how she talked - blade on blade, skill to skill.  

And when she landed a firm kick in her foe's midsection, it felt great.

* * *

"Did she just take out Duke Fraldrius in ten seconds?"  Claude murmured.

"Yes," Dimitri groaned, placing his head in his hands.

Edelgard's smile grew just a little bit.

* * *

"Your Eminence." Byleth bowed as Edelgard and the other lords descended into the ring.  She stood alone as the victor, once again.  "I'm sorry but I got your favor dirty."  She touched the red cloth, covered in dirt and blood.  Edelgard reached out to touch it, trying very desperately not to touch Byleth's arm.  She traced it briefly, and did not see Claude raising a pensive eyebrow.  Byleth's eyes traced her as well, from dragon-crown to regal attire and her pale eyes.  

"I don't think I mind," Edelgard smiled briefly, but it mattered.  "I don't think I mind at all.  I think we'll be spending quite some time together, Dame Eisner."

"Please, call me Byleth."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yay update! coming up is going to be more direct interactions between Edel and Byleth. But by then i'll be playing 3h!!!!! note that it's all my headcanons and anything that retroactively is true was not intentional (except for Jeralt's canonical last name of Eisner and nickname of Blade Breaker). again big thank to babeleth's 3h discord for their support.
> 
> AND AS ALWAYS PLEASE LEAVE KUDOS/COMMENTS. MAKES ME FEEL BETTER AND WRITE MORE.


	5. Daytripper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Byleth and Edelgard get to know each other a bit better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoiler alert! from here on out, we're gonna be using some spoilers for Edelgard's backstory. just a head's up.

_"We've been hired on to operate as protection detail for Emperor Edelgard," Jeralt said to the surrounding mercenaries.  "Be on your best behavior.  If I hear the slightest that any of you knuckleheads are being annoying or bothering her retainers, I will throw you out of this group myself.  Understood?"_

_"Yes sir!"  Came the resounding cry, all the mercenaries' heels clicking together and their hands flying to their chests in salute._

_"Good.  Dismissed."  Jeralt waved his prosthetic and turned away, Byleth stepping up to attention in his place._

_"Alright you barf-ridden boot-licking bastards!"  She barked out, "I want this camp looking like a pair of Kingdom knickers!"_

_"'Like nothing passed through here!'" The mercenaries all chorused back, laughing all the while._

_"Good!  On the double!  If it takes you an hour to do a task, do it in half!"  Byleth crossed her arms behind her back, looking severely as the camp shuddered and moved, tents and supplies flying._

_"Lieutenant," a mercenary ran up and dropped off a sheaf of paper in Byleth's hands.  "Captain Eisner will be ready to depart momentarily."_

_"Excellent.  Nicely done, Petyr," She dug out a few gold coins and dropped them in the runner's hands.  "Tell Commander Eisner that we'll be ready in forty-five minutes, barring no complications."_

_"Aye, ma'am!"  Petyr sketched a quick salute as Byleth looked over the sheaf of paper Petyr had left her.  All the expenses went over her head but she memorized it anyway, filing it away to be done the next time Jeralt got bored and wanted to do some accounting.  That was sometimes fun because that meant they sometimes got to beat up some greedy assholes who embezzled.  A smile pricked half of her mouth, remembering the last time she got to shake someone down._

_"Dame Eisner, a word."  Byleth's ears perked up, the hairs on the back of her neck raising in tension.  How didn't she hear - oh.  Of course.  That smell..._

_"Count von Vestra.  You couldn't have arrived without your stink of dark magic, could you?"  Byleth turned and raised a sardonic eyebrow, arms crossed under her chest.  Von Vestra's visible eye drilled into hers, and she held her gaze firm._

_"I find that quite insulting.  Be glad I don't report you to Her Eminence for your insubordination.  I just wanted to set some ground rules for your employment with the Empire."_

_"Listen, buddy, if you want to discuss the contract, talk with my father - "_

_"I meant with_ you _, Dame Eisner."_

_Huh._

_"Huh.  Alright, I'm listening."_

_"If you even get close to Lady Edelgard without my permission, I will end you."  Von Vestra stepped closer, staring down at Byleth.  "It will be easy.  I might even have to pull out the fake tears when explaining to your parents what happened."_

_"You're scared."  Byleth's eyes flashed and she stepped closer next, a finger pushing von Vestra back, right on his cravat.  "So you listen to me,_ Count _.  You think your baby threats and whining protestations will make me do my job better or worse?  You know, I'm surprised you're doing this.  It's right there in the fine print of the contract you signed - 'any threats directed at any employee or as employed by the co-signer are liable for a fine greater than or equal to one-point-five the original contract's net amount._

_"Now for Emperor von Hresvelg's protection detail it's a pretty indefinite assignment, until we secure her rule.  The base rate was a good three thousand gold, which is a bargain for a company of our caliber.  Also the fine print details that the insulter must pay directly from their own account..."  Byleth turned pensive, resting a pointer finger on her chin.  "Do you have lying around about five thousand gold?"  
_

_Von Vestra stammered for a bit before moving a step back._

_"Now if you'll excuse me, I have a camp to run."  She turned around without a second glance, voice rising.  "Put some spirit into it!  We're Jeralt's Mercenaries!  We fight well, we eat well, and hell, we clean up after ourselves well!"_

_"YES MA'AM!"  Came the resounding cry.  Distantly, one mercenary's voice picked up in a soulful tune, her song ringing through the evening sky._

* * *

"Thank you for riding with me, Dame - Byleth."  Edelgard nodded down as Byleth walked next to Edelgard's steed, canting slowly across the forest pathway.  It was a lovely day for riding, a lovely day for - well, for deciding the fate of her country.  Goddess.  

"Of course," Byleth nodded, moving a bit closer to run a hand along Edelgard's horse's nose.  "Who's a good boy?  You are, aren't you?  A good royal steed?"

"Yes, Finn has served me well ever since I was a child."

"Named after the legendary lancer, hm?  I didn't take you for one to name things after children's tales."

"We were all children once.  I just had to grow up faster than most."

"I understand.  I don't think either of us had a normal childhood."

"How so?" 

"I was raised by mercenaries.  I knew the word 'hell' before I knew my name, just about.  I learned how to swing a sword before I could write.  I never had courtyard crushes, or awkward schooling.  It's always been just...well, the company." Byleth nodded ahead where Sir Jeralt and Dame Esmé rode together.  She heard Dame Esmé's soft tinkle of laughter as an imperial soldier awkwardly answered whatever question the lady had asked.  

"Your parents seem like remarkable people.  Legendary, almost."  Edelgard smiled wistfully.

"Meh, they're not that great."

"Oh?"

"They're parents.  They're  _my_ parents.  They're obnoxiously in love.  Dad's super bad at taking care of himself.  You know how many times he's forgotten to change his prosthetic?  He once went into battle with his spoon attachment and not his shield one."

"You're joking!"  Edelgard chuckled, but Byleth continued on.

"Yeah, that's a good one.  Or one time mom got so distracted she sewed three shirts together without looking, removed all the stitches, sewed an additional shirt into the mix, and then turned them into a blanket."

"Surely they have their good moments."

"Oh, sure.  But...parents."

"I..."  Edelgard stopped herself, her mood souring.  "My father..."  Finn whinnied in response and the two women's hands almost met as they consoled him.

"If you don't want to, you don't have to."  Byleth smiled, looking through her fringe at the emperor.

"I...I want to."  She swallowed, unsure, and caught Hubert's eye as he scowled.  "My father was a strong man.  In my memory he was, at least.  In truth he was old and sickly.  The council of seven made that happen.  And when he got worse, before I struck back, my mother...well, at least they were in love."

"I'm sorry, Your Eminence."  Byleth placed a hand on Edelgard's, not even deviating her gaze from the path.  

"Thank you.  One moment, please," Edelgard moved her hand away from Byleth's and whistled, Petra descending from her patrol.  "How are the skies, Petra?"

"They are looking fine, Edel.  Nothing to report."  Petra and Byleth made eye contact and smiled, no hard feelings between them.

"Good.  Report with Caspar, Linhardt, and the forward brawlers to keep it that way."

"As you wish," and Petra ascended.  Ferdinand rode up next, almost locking Byleth between the two steeds.

"Emperor."  Ferdinand nodded once at Edelgard, then again at Byleth.  "Dame Eisner."

"Ferdinand.  Any news from the front?"  Edelgard looked between him and a faraway shadow where Hubert lay waiting.  

"None as of yet, Edelgard," Ferdinand brushed back a long lock of hair.  "But that could be because the prime minister is still blocking communications..."

"I see," Edelgard nodded, before looking at Byleth.  "I trust you won't report any of this to anyone?"

"Does my dad count?  And besides, who would I tell?"

"She makes a fair point.  Any observations or challenging comments, Ferdinand?"  Edelgard raised a pointed eyebrow and he laughed.

"None so far.  Rearguard archer team and Bernadetta have nothing to report either."

"Good.  Also I can feel Bernadetta worrying from here so if you could..." Edelgard trailed off and Ferdinand let out a short bark of amusement.  Without a by-your-leave he turned and canted back.

* * *

"Are you close with your inner circle, Your Eminence?"  Byleth asked nonchalantly.

"Yes, I'd like to think so.  We were all classmates at the Officers' Academy and as heirs to various positions, when the time comes...they will assist me more than now."

"So your father's old cabinet are still in power?  How does that work?"

"A very simple law that they passed under my father's nose.  If any cabinet member passes for any unusual reason - say an 'accidental' death, then another appointment would be impossible.  They've tied it up in so much red tape and bureaucratic nonsense that I have to wait for them to die.  As emperor, I have no real power.  I can put forward and veto motions that I'm aware of, but..."

"So why not just kill them?"

"That's a pretty dark thought.  I would love to do that.  But...that is not the type of country I want to rule.  Where backstabbing is common and deceit is prevalent.  And even if I restore the country to the ideal I imagine after doing that..." the Emperor clenched a fist, and Byleth nodded.

"It wouldn't be the same, would it?"  Byleth asked, and Edelgard nodded.  

"No.  And the council will stonewall me, but they won't kill me either.  They need me.  They..."  Edelgard looked back and forth before shaking her head.  "No.  Now is not the time."

"Keeping some secrets to yourself?"  Byleth idly commented, laughing briefly.  "Nothing wrong with that.  You don't need to spill your whole tragic backstory on the first date."

"F-first - I'm sure I don't know what you mean, Dame Eisner."

Ouch.

"My apologies for overstepping my boundaries, Your Eminence."

"I didn't say to stop."

Byleth snuck a tentative look up, and oh goddess - Edelgard had turned the exact color of her coat.  

"Of course."

They continued in silence.

* * *

"Full stop!"  Sir Jeralt's voice echoed down the line, and Edelgard took a deep breath.  The sun was setting on the horizon as they came into a large clearing, right on the edge of a village.  

"I want tents here, here, and here!  Imperials, set up perimeter there and there," Esmé slid off of Jeralt's horse and began barking orders.  "Lieutenant Alka, reinforce the imperial patrols and rotate as per standard procedures.  Whoever knows their way around the kitchen, with me.  Move it!"

When no one moved, Jeralt spoke up, "listen to the lady!  Next imperial slob I see not doing a job will learn why I'm called the Blade Breaker!"  That got them moving, and imperial soldiers scrambled like ants.  

"Milady?"  Edelgard looked down to see Byleth extending a hand up.  She took it gracefully, stepping off and descending quickly.

"Thank you, Dame Byleth."

"A pleasure.  Hey, watch it, jackass!"  She turned and slapped a mercenary on the arm.  "No bare weapons in camp!  Oh, shit, sorry about the language - ah, I mean."  Byleth heaved a sigh. 

"I'm sorry for cursing, Your Eminence."

"It's nothing I haven't heard before.  And please, call me Edelgard."

"I feel like if I do that, von Vestra will kill me."

"This is true."

"Now, I must join my mother at the cooking fire.  Care to join me?"

"Surely you're not insinuating you're going to make the Adrestian Emperor do something as low as cook?"  Hubert's snarky voice emerged, and Edelgard saw Byleth roll her eyes.

"Listen, von Vestra, I'm trying to make Her Eminence feel more welcome.  Besides, I'm sure you've never cooked a day in your life."

"I take that as a compliment.  Surely you commoners do not know good eating - "

"Please, Hubert,"  Edelgard laid a pacifying hand on his arm, and he shut himself up.  "We have hired her for this exactly.  I want you to coordinate with security and patrols and see if anyone here has a scrying crystal.  If a single word of this gets out to the council..."

"Of course, Lady Edelgard.  Consider it done."  With that Hubert wrapped himself in a cloak of darkness and vanished.

"I'm sorry you had to see that, Dame Byleth," Edelgard muttered.  "And I'm sorry he has not been more hospitable."

"It's alright, your highness," Byleth rubbed the back of her neck and laughed meekly.  "I mean, if you want to cook, you can come with me, but if you have other things to do - "

"No, I'd love to."

"Of course.  After me, your highness."

* * *

"Ah!  Good!  You're here!"  Esmé snapped without looking back, Byleth flushing faintly.  "You finally made it.  Stop lollygagging and help out.  Cut these, and tell whoever you're with to start peeling potatoes."

"Mom, I don't know if you can just order the Emperor to do that..."

"I don't care if the bloody goddess herself is here.  If you're in my kitchen you'll do what I say.  Got that, Emperor von Hresvelg?"  Esmé turned around and Byleth winced as Edelgard swallowed nervously.  Esmé quickly shoved two bowls filled with mushrooms into Byleth's hands, and a sack of potatoes, a knife, and another bowl into Edelgard's.

"She seemed a lot more...serene earlier," Edelgard whispered as she sat down, brushing her cape to the side as she got to work.  

"Yeah, this is mom in the kitchen.  Do you need any help?"

"Yes, please."

"I don't imagine they teach how to cook in those fancy schools of yours."

"Not really."

"So, you hold the potato like this..."

* * *

"And...like this, Your Eminence.  You're a real natural in the kitchen!"

"Oh, thank you Dame Eisner,"  Edelgard demurred.  She and Dame Eisner sat side-by-side as they tried their meal.  

"For a beginner you're quite good," Dame Eisner mused before throwing a small fire spell at the cooking flame, rising to briefly boil the stew.  "Now you try."

"You want me to throw fire at a cooking flame?"

"It's therapeutic.  But if you burn the meal..."  Dame Eisner's voice trailed off and Edelgard recognized that steely glint in her eyes.

"Of course, Dame Eisner."  She focused and tossed a small ember into the fire.  It expanded slightly, and the smell of cooked meat wafted further.

"Nicely done.  And please, 'Dame Eisner' is so stuffy.  Call me Esmé."

"O-of course E-Esmé.  Pardon me, it's a little much to take in."

"How so?"

"How close everyone is.  Back in Enbarr there's always a polite distance between everything.  Even with my closest friends it's..."

"It's distant.  The monastery was like that as well, back in the day.  Rhea was always very insistent on keeping it like that when I was younger."

"I thought she wasn't in a leadership position until twenty years ago."

"She doesn't age at all, it seems.  When I was there, her not being archbishop was a formality.  In reality I had no chance of becoming archbishop.  But regardless."  

"Yes.  Thank you for the help with cooking."  Edelgard stood up and dusted herself off, Esmé rising with her.

"The pleasure is mine.  Now, go get some eating done.  We've got a ways to Enbarr!"

Edelgard smiled, and stepped off.

* * *

"Can't sleep?"  Byleth tilted her head slightly at the voice, turning her gaze from the stars to the Adrestian Emperor, sitting down on a crate next to her.  In the distance they heard the patrols calling out to each other, and felt the tingle of distant magic.

"Not really.  You?"  Byleth replied, scooting over so Edelgard could sit down next to her.

"Sleep does not always come easy to me.  I imagine the same could be said of you."

"Mm.  In this line of work, you have to...distance yourself sometimes.  I'm sure the same could be said of you."

"Indeed.  Keeping my ambitions in sight, while not losing myself...it has been hard these past five years.  Are you just watching the stars?"

"I'm waiting."

"For what?"

"For who, your highness."  At that, Ilyia whinnied as she descended, coming to a stop in front of the two women.  "Have a good little snack?"  Byleth asked sarcastically and the pegasus whapped her with a wing.

"What's your pegasus doing here?"

"Well, with how connected we are, she usually senses when I can't sleep.  So I let her get a little bite and now we're gonna have a little fly-around.  Would you like to come with?"  Byleth stood up and extended a hand.  

* * *

She looked...almost radiant, framed by the moon, Edelgard thought.  In the pale moonlight she could see scars littering her bare arms, a sleeveless gown fitting her nicely, a pair of too-big men's boots on her feet.  Wrapped in her own blanket, clothed in silk, the difference between the two was tangible.  And yet...

She reached up and took Byleth's hand.

"Do you want to sit in front of or behind me?"  Byleth asked as Edelgard slid up onto the mount, running a hand along her spine.  

"Behind, in preferable.  I'd hate if you couldn't see over me."

"Yeah yeah, enough with the short jokes.  Ilyia, this is Edelgard.  Your highness, this is Ilyia, who will be a very nice girl.  Right, Ilyia?"  She bopped the pegasus's nose cutely, and Edelgard withheld a chuckle.  Ilyia responded by shaking her head, and Byleth seemed to find this satisfactory.  She slid up, settling between Edelgard's legs (Oh goddess).

"Hold on tight, your highness.  Let's fly, Ilyia!"

* * *

In the sky, held only by the moon and clouds, Edelgard wrapped her arms around Byleth and rested her head along her spine.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello everyone! we're one week post 3h arrival and i've already put 30 hours onto it. still enough time to write this! given the week and as i said up top i am gona be using some spoilery stuff here and there. Anyway, please leave a kudos/comment if you enjoyed!


	6. Forest Glen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a role reversal as the relationship blooms.

"-And then I said to him, 'Elliott, if you keep hitting on me I'll have my dad fire you!' and then he hit on me again and I broke his arm."  Byleth smiled a wolfish grin, finishing her tale with relish.  Edelgard had the tact to hide a small smile behind a gloved hand.

"And what, pray tell, did he say to hit on you?"

"He tried comparing my eyes to an ocean, but he kept looking at my chest the entire time."

"I see.  And did your father fire him?"

"On the spot.  We pride ourselves on being one of the better mercenary groups in regards to stuff like that.  Everything equal and all that."    Byleth rested a hand on Finn's head, right near the reins.  There was some underlying tension in the air, even to Edelgard's eye.  Sir Eisner's shoulders were stiff and tense, and Dame Eisner was looking at every shaking leaf and tree.  It was late in the year, the winter snows on the tip of the tongue.  In the distance Edelgard could hear Linhardt complaining about the cold and Dorothea wrapping herself up in another flimsy jacket.  Just another day of travel, it seemed.  She looked up, past a waft of breath and heard Ilyia's baying cry.  After they had landed last night, Byleth had wished her goodnight and vanished into the darkness.  And for once, Edelgard slept well.  No nightmares, no echoes of family in pain - 

"Emperor?  Are you alright?" Edelgard's eyes snapped open at Byleth's questioned and she steeled herself, shaking off the fugue state.  

"I'm fine, thank you.  I forgot how long the trip to Enbarr was, and was starting to worry about the capital..."

"I haven't known you for that long but I can tell you're lying."

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean," Edelgard sniffed haughtily but Byleth chuckled in response.

"We're making good progress back to the imperial city.  You're not worried about that.  You've personally overseen the patrol routes and have corresponded with imperial security both in this party and back home.  It's something dark you're thinking of.  Something you don't like sharing."

"And how are you seeing so much when you won't look me in the eyes?"

Byleth smiled sadly, turning up to look at Edelgard, "the eyes only share so much.  Your posture, your tensions, your stress...I'm sure you know you keep it in your shoulders.  After last night you seemed much more relaxed until you thought of something and it all came back.  And since you've been discussing with my father all the details about security that wouldn't explain a sudden bout of stress."

"You see much, Byleth."

"I barely see anything.  I'm just not afraid to speak my mind sometimes."  Byleth shook her head, and then suddenly stopped.  A microsecond later, Sir Eisner pulled his horse to a stop.  

"Battle positions!  Cavalry, spread out in a loose cloud around us.  Mages, archers and healers in the middle, Esmé, coordinate the imperial personnel.  Byleth, you're with me to spearhead a defense.  Infantry, with us!"  Sir Eisner's voice barked out.  The mood shifted, and Byleth tensed up.  She dropped the reins, Edelgard reaching for them a second later.

"Your Highness, stay with the protected personnel - "

"You  _will_ let me fight, Dame Eisner," Edelgard snapped, sliding off Finn.  She waved a hand and Hubert stepped forward.

"Milady, the bandits appear to be within a few hundred feet.  While I would attempt to dissuade you..."

"Just give me my weapons, Hubert."

"As you wish."  Hubert plucked out two items from a satchel and they materialized as a heavy silver axe and a levin sword, sparkling with energy.  

"Thank you, Hubert.  Now, Byleth, if you'll join me at the frontlines?"  Edelgard gestured towards the bend in the road, where they distantly heard a bandit's barking voice.

* * *

"Hey, kiddo," Jeralt muttered to Byleth as she fiddled with her sword hilt, Edelgard standing a few feet away.  "What's the Emperor doing here?"

"She insisted!"  Byleth whispered back, frowning.  "Wouldn't take no for an answer."

"Well, you're in charge of protecting her.  If what Her Eminence said these guys are probably hired by Adrestian nobility.  Anyway, you riding Ilyia today or no?"

"I'll probably just stay on my feet unless otherwise needed.  You'll keep an eye on mom and the others?"

"Who do you take me for, kid?"  Jeralt lightly knocked her with the butt of his lance, and she laughed.  "I'm the Blade Breaker.  You think I'd leave your mother alone?"

"True enough.  Alright!"  Byleth pitched her voice higher.  "Armors, up front!  Brawlers and fighters, sweep from the left!  Swords, from the right!  Watch out for cavalry and don't forget to shout out for assistance!  Mages, archers, watch your targets!  If you can take them out before they get to us, the better!"

Various affirmations came from the group, all bunching together per her orders.

"And where will I go, Lieutenant Eisner?"  Edelgard asked cheekily, leaning on her axe lightly.  Oh goddess.

"With me, of course.  I have been tasked with your protection."

"Alright.  Shall we?"  Byleth gestured with her left hand, her sword grasped firmly in her right.  For a moment she hesitated and then pulled Edelgard back.

"What are you doing?" Edelgard hissed but Byleth put a finger to her lips, shushing her.  

"Improvising."  Byleth sheathed her blade and stepped forward, making a series of complicated hand signals that sent a few chuckles through the mercenaries.

* * *

"What does that mean?  What is she doing?"  Edelgard turned to ask a mercenary, who laughed sheepishly.

"Well, Your Eminence, she's gonna bait them out.  And when she gives the signal, we're gonna wipe 'em out.  Care to see?"  The mercenary pulled out a small mirror, and Byleth came into view.  "No sound or nothin', but the visuals are good at least."

"Fascinating."

On the mirror they saw the ambush site - what looked like an overturned wagon and a peasant couple.  Byleth had her arms in her sleeves normally, and an odd hat atop her head, hiding her hair.  Edelgard tried not to focus on the long line of her neck.  However, the bandits were visible through the trees.  Not the best ambush.  Byleth approached the couple, bending down to assist.  It looked like the man had his legs pinned by the wagon's yoke, and the woman was trying desperately to pull the wagon off of the man.  Byleth stepped closer, and suddenly the man was no longer pinned, and had drawn a long knife to match the woman's, arching up towards Byleth's neck - 

But she reacted quickly, sending an open palm into the woman's neck, ducking below the man's thrust and sending a hard kick to his groin.  The two fell over in pain as the bandits started emerging from the woodwork.  And then they heard her 'signal'.

"Please, please, help!  I'm being attacked!"  Byleth sprinted back, tearing her hat off and pulling her arms out of the sleeves.  She tore her sword out of it's sheath with a small sound.  "Alright, you bastards!  Everyone, like we planned!"  And then a stream of ruffians emerged from around the bend, tearing after them like a pack of wild dogs.  So Edelgard did the courteous thing and charge forward, armor clanking in time with her movements, Byleth a step behind.

"How about a little wager?"  Byleth mused, settling into position with her blade hanging loosely on her shoulder.

"Oh?"

"Yeah.  If I get more kills than you, you have to tell me what keeps you up at night."

"And if  _I_ win?"

"Well, that's up to you, isn't it?"  Byleth smirked, leaning towards Edelgard with a sloppy grin. 

"Alright.  If I win, you have to cook a meal for me."

"A deal's a deal.  COME ON, YOU BASTARDS!  WE'RE RIGHT HERE!"  Byleth's voice raised and Edelgard stepped back a bit, settling in her stance.  

They clashed.

* * *

To be truthful, Byleth wasn't really counting how many kills she had over the Emperor.  She was too focused on her own sword and spells, blood spilling and screams racing out of spent lungs.  It was partly why she didn't like using a bow or offensive spells that much over her blade - it distanced her from combat.  Sure, training and the mock battles at the tournament were one thing, but this?  This was completely different.  And also she was a bit preoccupied with how Edelgard fought.  She should have guessed when her preferred weapon was shown to be a heavy axe, but the idea of an Emperor fighting brought to mind rapiers, elegant thrusts and ripostes.  Edelgard used strength and power, only switching to her electric blade when someone was out of reach.  It was honestly...

Byleth felt a little flushed.  Edelgard did not look like she could lift a genuine silver axe with one hand, and then spin it with that same hand, all within a few seconds.  Byleth was in awe.  When Byleth had studied all the martial arts, she, like most practitioners fell into a 'habit'.  Swords swung with grace, lances almost always thrust, so on and so on.  And yet for all the simplicity of the axe, of a simple up-and-down or side-to-side, Edelgard made the axe almost...beautiful.  

At least Byleth started paying attention to herself when Edelgard's axe crashed into a bandit two feet in front of her, lance almost raised in a deadly attack.

"Please try to stay focused, Byleth," Edelgard chastised, a small smile on her face.  "It would not do for you to fall now.  I still want to know what your cooking tastes like."

"Very funny, but last I checked I'm ahead of you!"  Byleth dived back into the fray, sword swinging with intensity, drive and determination.

* * *

Seeing Byleth fight up close as compared to from a distance was...well, Edelgard got a little flustered.  Just a bit.  Part of her mind wanted to call attention to Byleth's more "feminine" body parts, her eyes inevitably drifted away to her whole figure.  She fought with no preconceived notions, nothing holding her back, just a woman and her sword and an enemy.  Luckily these bandits were remarkably untrained and disorganized, clearly not hired by von Aegir - his bandits were always better prepared.  Hopefully they'd be forthcoming after their defeat.  But their folly was her gain - she got to see Byleth fight up close.

And that was worth something.  Even with her arms hidden under sleeves and armor, just the way she moved - oh goddess.  Please stop.

* * *

Ilyia nosed at Byleth's shoulder and she deigned to give him her a few scratches, the pegasus's long tongue licking at her face as she chuckled.  

"Good girl.  Good girl.  Ow!  Mom!"  Byleth kicked her leg out, Esmé dodging out of the way of her daughter's errant leg, smiling.

"It's not that bad, honey.  I don't get either why you don't wear better armor or how you don't feel anything that hits you.  I mean, your father's the same way, but at least he wears armor!"  

"I like being flexible.  Can't dodge well if i'm suited up in plate."

"Not plate, just...something a bit more for your dear, old, worried mother," Esmé's voice took on a satirical tone as she continued, Byleth giggling at her antics.

"Mom, I'm fine."

"Well, I'm just getting you patched up so you can heal Her Highness's battle wounds."

"You couldn't have told me that first?"  Byleth went to move but Esmé's grasp held her down.

"By the goddess, you and your father both!  It's common courtesy to wait for the bishop to say you're healed before going at it!"

"Okay, mother," Byleth soured, and her mother laughed.

"Alright, you're all set.  Just make sure to - "  Byleth interrupted her mother by getting up and bolting away, swinging her coat over her shoulders roughly.

"- to get some rest.  Honestly, Ilyia, that girl and her father.  What are we going to do with them?"  

Ilyia neighed softly, nudging Esmé with a wing.

"I guess you're right.  Jeralt Eisner!  What are you doing walking around on a wounded leg!"  Esmé snapped as she marched over to her husband, fire in her eyes.

* * *

"Your Eminence?  Can I be of assistance?"  Edelgard looked up to see Byleth standing over her, hands awash in a glow of faith magic.  "I heard you took some injuries in that battle."

"I'm quite alright, Byleth - "

"I won't take no for an answer."  Byleth was smiling as she laid out her ultimatum and Edelgard swallowed.

"O-of course.  Just my arm."

"Thank you."  Byleth sat down next to her and took hold of her arms, and she froze.

"This will just be a moment."  Byleth ran a hand up and down the torn fabric and wounded flesh, healing magic washing over her arm.  "Good as new."

"I thought you were going to kiss and make it better," Edelgard smiled cheekily, and Byleth's eyes danced as they locked.

"That comes on the third date."

"Does this count as our second?"

"If you want.  I think when I make you dinner will be the third."

"So forward, Dame Byleth!  What will my advisers think?"

"I think von Vestra can suck an egg."

"He can be a little...heavy-handed, sometimes, yes."  They were still sitting next to each other, Byleth's hands on her arm.  Her hands were warm and callused, a mercenary's hands.  Like her own.  

"Mmm.  Do you require anything else, Your Highness?"

"I think I will be fine for now, Byleth.  Thank you."

"Of course.  I'm sure you'll be able to find me if needed."  Byleth stood and made to leave but Edelgard chased an impulse and grabbed her sleeve.

"Wait!  Please.  Do not think I am rejecting your..."

"My advances?"

"Sure.  Call them that.  I just...I don't know, it's confusing and hard to put into words."

"I see.  I will stop if you'd like - "

"I didn't say that, it's just - I want you to continue, but it's just...my life is not well suited for others.  It's a lonely existence."

"All the better to invite someone in to share your burdens."  Byleth turned at this.

"I would never want to do that - "

"That's life, Emperor.  You either suffer alone or you bond with others.  And isn't that why you hired us?"

"Indeed.  Tonight, after you make dinner...I will tell you."

"Are you sure?"

"I am.  Will you wait for me, Byleth?"

"Of course."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we in there boys  
> as always leave a kudos/comment if you enjoyed it!  
> side note thank you for almost 4000 hits this is the fastest one of my fics has grown this quickly idk who to thank except for you, the fans. i owe you all so much.


	7. Procession

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edelgard reveals the truth, and the story...changes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter's like a medium rare steak: tender and juicy. Also! Spoilers! A bit on Edelgard's past will be revealed. Also, this gets a bit more adult. THere's some kissing. and implied Extra Stuff. You've been warned.

"Remember, Byleth, to use protection - "

"Mother!  It's not that!"  

"The Adrestian Emperor is visiting your tent tonight, I'm only advising caution - "

"Goddess, mother - "

"And I don't want any grandkids so soon - "

"Alright goodbye!"  Byleth stormed away, but only five feet to the dish-wash bin to place her empty bowl of stew.  She kindly thanked the mercenary saddled with dish duty and stormed away.

"You didn't need to go that far, Esmé."  Jeralt nudged his wife with his prosthetic, sitting heavily on the log Byleth left.  

"I'm just teasing her.  Maybe if she wasn't so visible with her cute little crush.  The tension is almost annoying at this point."

"Esmé..."

"What?"

"What did we say about bets involving our daughter's romantic relationships?"

Esmé brought a hand to her chin, "that it can't go higher than fifty gold?"

Jeralt placed a quick kiss on her cheek, a gruff smile on his face.  "Besides, what's the worst that could happen?"

* * *

"I'm sorry to keep you waiting," Edelgard stepped into Byleth's tent to see her polishing her sword elegantly, almost delicately.

"It's alright.  I did technically make dinner, but my mother was a little.  Obtuse with her comments.  Sorry I couldn't serve you directly."

"I guess you'll have to make it up for me another time," Edelgard swept her hair over one shoulder, the other hand holding a collection of papers.

"I guess so.  What've you got?"

"Proof.  First I...wanted to thank you for offering to listen.  What I may say...may surprise you.  If you don't believe me, I understand, but - "

"Emperor.  You're rambling.  Come, sit," Byleth stood up, sword forgotten and grabbed Edelgard's spare hand, dragging her over to a small table.  "Tea?"

"If you have any to spare that would be lovely."

"Of course."  Byleth stood to prepare tea, hand flickering with fire to heat the water.  They sat quietly for a few minutes as the tea steeped until Byleth poured the tea into two chipped china cups, letting a platter of slightly-stale cake slices clatter to the table.  Edelgard thought it was the most appetizing thing she had ever seen in a while.  After years of white table cloth and pristine dishes, to see a humble, well-kept set that was clearly loved was...humbling, in some way.  And lovely.  Byleth also looked lovely.  Where did her etiquette go when in the mercenary's presence?  It might be her muscles.  She was wearing that sleeveless nightgown again and her hair was in a loose braid, and the resemblance to her mother came to mind.  

Edelgard couldn't remember her mother that much as of recent.  Certain facts had dissuaded her from remembering her fondly...but she wished that in some other universe, her mother was like Esmé Eisner.  

"How is the tea and sweets?  I'm sorry if they're a little hard."

"They're lovely.  Thank you for the offer.  Something about tea late at night, eating secretive treats...it reminds me of when I was younger with my siblings."

"Oh?  How many siblings did you have?"

"Ten, in all.  Eight older, two younger.  Ionius, Cassandra, William, Francesca, Albert, Sophia, Joseph and Johann; George and Elizabetha."

"That's a lot of siblings.  Are...what happened to them?"

"That...that is what ails me.  I am the last one of Ionius IX's children.  Cassandra, Albert and I manifested the Crest of Seiros and were eligible for the throne, but...are you aware of the group known as Those Who Slither in the Dark?"

"That's a very silly name."

"It is, isn't it?  Regardless, they are...essentially in charge of the Empire.  They have infiltrated the six royal imperial families and after the Insurrection of the Seven, they control the Empire.  And ten years ago, they wanted to enhance their power.  So they..."  Edelgard swallowed and Byleth reached across the table to grasp her hand and Edelgard squeezed fingers tightly, the Emperor shedding her skin just a bit.

"They experimented on us.  It's called blood reconstruction surgery.  Trapped in the dungeons for years, taunted by familiar faces...Those Who Slither completely dominate a person.  Slip into another's skin.  Seeing my uncle, my mother's brother, order more torture, more excruciating pain...all for this."  Edelgard placed the papers on the table, her now free hand palm-up to reveal a second crest.

"As a result, I alone am left.  And I survived."

"Edelgard..."

"It's funny," Edelgard sniffed, "I'm not one to shed tears.  But...reliving that, and you saying my name, I..."

"I'm sorry.  What happened next?"

"I thought Those Who Slither retreated, but...they consolidated their power.  And then Hubert and I found these."  Edelgard handed the sheaf to Byleth, who dropped Edelgard's hand to read through these.

"These are...signed by Lady Rhea?"

"Yes.  A shadow war in Fódlan, to control the narrative of history and the fate of the people.  The truth behind crests, behind Seiros, the Heroes, Nemesis..."

"Goddess."

"And you know what?"  Edelgard leaned back, taking a sip of tea, "they wanted me to find this."

"Why?  This is...wow.  That's a lot of gold for...crestology research?"

"Indeed.  You know how many orphanages I could open with that money?  But yes, they planted this to provoke me into war.  And with their weaponry, we'd lose.  Fódlan would lose."

"So what will you do?"  Byleth dropped the papers and looked up, blue eyes shining.

"I'm going to need your help.  You're an unknown.  As of now, Those Who Slither don't know that you know.  That might change, though.  But I have a plan.  You'll..." Edelgard flushed and coughed, looking to the side.

"Yes?"

"Well...you'd come with me to Enbarr.  As.  A royal concubine."

Byleth coughed heavily, hiding her own blush.  "You're - you're serious?"

"Deadly.  It would give you almost unlimited access to the imperial palace, so you could be my eyes and ears to see what our enemies are doing."

"Isn't that what Hubert is for?"

"Yes, somewhat.  While he has a lot of access to Those Who Slither, he's almost entirely banned from the Church.  But you're Archbishop Rhea's friend's daughter, and a dab hand at faith magic.  They'd let you in no sweat."

"This is a lot to ask."

"I know," this time Edelgard reached across to grab Byleth's hand,  squeezing her fingers tightly.  "It's a lot to ask.  But I've seen their plans for the future.  Entire villages wiped out in explosions of light.  Crusades thrown at the slightest hint of treason.  An era of fear and a strangulation of terror.  I need your help."

"What about King Dimitri and Lord Claude?"

"While you occupy our foes' attention in Enbarr, your parents would go around to recruit them.  From there...we'd see."

* * *

Byleth sighed heavily.  She always had a weak spot for desperate hopes and fatal measures.  And there was a gleam in Edelgard's eyes that was intriguing, that drew Byleth to her...

What was this magnetism they had?  This was not going to end well.

But...

"So!"  Byleth smiled, her mood improving.  "What should our backstory be?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Well if I'm going to be your, what was it?  'Royal concubine?'  What should our story be?  I'm no royal.  I'm a mercenary's daughter.  Well, we already have one.  I caught your eye at the Millennium Tournament, and things went from there."

"You're taking this well," Edelgard snarked dryly, but squeezed back. 

"I think the hard part will be telling Hubert.  Do concubines get married or is it more like I show up and that's that?"

"That's that, mostly.  But you're sure?  You'll be thrust into a world that you're not prepared for."

"Well, I'm great at being unpredictable.  You remember how I acted at that dinner with the Archbishop.  Next time I'll pull out my bishop or gremory robes and really take them by surprise.  If they're still mortal, there are not a lot of mortal men that can resist the - "

"That's quite enough, Byleth," Edelgard chided and Byleth laughed.  

"I have to find my fun somewhere.  Still, I think this was a good third date."

"Oh?"

"Considering you just asked me to move in with you, yes!"

"Hmph.  Well, there is one more thing.  If we're going to pretend to be...romantically engaged..."

"I take it I can do this?"  Byleth leaned over the table, her free hand lifting Edelgard's chin delicately as she pressed their lips together.  Wow.  Edelgard was...warm.  Her lips were a little chapped as they kissed, but they softened as their kiss deepened.  Edelgard broke the kiss to stand up and straddle Byleth's hips, hands tangling in the mercenary's hair as their heads slanted away to kiss deeper.  

"Wow..." Byleth panted.  

"Yes..."  Edelgard's eyes were closed as they rested their foreheads together.  "We...should probably stop..."

"What's stopping us?"

"Well..."

They got up, and Edelgard pushed Byleth to her bed, the back of her knees hitting the cot as the two tipped over.  Edelgard braced herself with her hands next to Byleth's head and the two women panted heavily.  Byleth's arms twined delicately around Edelgard's neck as Edelgard collapsed onto the mercenary, bodies flush together.  Edelgard moaned into Byleth's mouth, her flush rising up her chest.  Byleth moved to slide Edelgard's robe off but she pulled it closer, afraid.  Slowly, she let her pull the robe apart to reveal the result of Those Who Slither.  Scars littered her body, centered around her solar plexus.  Byleth kissed each one, arms falling to Edelgard's waist.

"You are...so beautiful..."

"Byleth..."

There was not a lot of talking after that.  

* * *

And for once, Edelgard's dreams were not of rats and dank dungeons.

* * *

"Why can't I be big spoon?"  Byleth whined, Edelgard pressing a kiss to her sweat-lined neck.

"Because I'm Emperor and I say so."

"Well I'm Byleth Eisner and I say I should be big spoon."

"Well.  That's unfortunate.  As my royal concubine that makes you an imperial citizen and thus you have to follow my royal decree.  And I say: I am the big spoon."

"Rude."

"I don't hear you complaining."

* * *

"Hey, kiddo."  Byleth looked up to see her father stepping next to her at breakfast, tired from last night.

"Hey."

"You've got a few marks on your neck there."

"No I don't - " Byleth's hand slapped up to her collar, and froze.  "Shit."

"Language, kiddo."  

"Just don't tell my mother."

Jeralt leaned in closer and smiled.  "She already knows."

Byleth's head dropped into her hands and she let out a sad, depressed groan.  Of course.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter! it's not dead! as always keep up the kudos/comments! i don't know how this has almost 6k hits but. thank you, the fans. Another short chapter (sorry i worked a double yesterday and I promise more and bigger chapters in the future) but now the perspective will shift between Byleth and Edelgard in Enbarr and Jeralt and Esmé on the road to the other nations to recruit them. Also, comment what side ships you'd like to see! I can't promise anything but i've been doing some Aaron OC Thinking for children units and boy howdy now!
> 
> as always, big big thanks to Marisa for listening to my bullshit, and again to everyone who reads this. Share it if you liked it, tell your friends, but please leave a comment. It really helps me be motivated. ok the cat's bothering me so later!


	8. Day in the Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Byleth and the company arrive in Enbarr and the next stage unfolds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kept you waiting, huh? More details at the end, my dudes.

Edelgard watched from the side as she overheard Byleth and her parents sharing one last conversation before they left.

"And you promise to be careful?"  Esmé fretted over her daughter's coat, straightening the lapels and dusting off any invisible rubbish.  

"We don't want to come running back because you got your ass in the frier," Jeralt snorted, rubbing his nose idly with his prosthetic.  Byleth made a move to hit him but was pinned down by her mother's firm touch.

"Now now, Byleth.  We are in the presence of the Adrestian Emperor, so please watch your manners.  Remember to wash your hands, clean behind your ears, use contr-"

"I get it!"  Byleth swatted her mother's hands away and Edelgard hid a dignified chuckle behind a gloved hand.  "I'll be fine.  You guys have nothing to worry about."

"It's quite literally our job to worry about you, you know," Jeralt rested a hand on Byleth's head, tousling her hair fondly.  "Be good, kid.  Don't do anything stupid."

"Only if you promise me the same."

Jeralt let out a mighty laugh, drawing Arundel's attention, but the mercenary paid it no mind.  "I've got your mother with me!  We'll be fine, kid.  Be well.  We'll see you later."

"I won't miss you," Byleth said haughtily, but let herself get pulled into a hug with her parents.  Edelgard thought it was a very sweet gesture.  She turned to nod at Caspar and Bernadetta, the former helping the latter onto their horse.  

"I trust you remember your orders?"  Edelgard stepped closer to her old friends, nodding solemnly.  

"Yeah, yeah, Edelgard," Caspar ran a hand through his short hair, situated behind the sniper, who was blushing furiously.  "We'll keep an eye out and be your eyes and ears."

"C-Caspar!"  Bernadetta turned around to swat Caspar on the arm, "you can't call her Majesty that!  It's improper!"

"I really don't mind," Edelgard consoled, but Caspar let out a bellowing laugh, short and staccato.  

"Take care of yourself, Edelgard," Caspar saluted proudly, and Edelgard nodded.

"You as well, Sir Bergliez.  Lady von Varley, I trust you to look out for Caspar?"

"Of course, your Majesty.  You can count on me to look at him - I mean, after him."  Thankfully for Bernadetta's sake, Caspar did not notice her slip.  Petra's wyvern landed heavily, shaking his head mightily.  

"Petra, if anything happens - "

"Of course, Edelgard.  I will be returning to notify you."  Petra bowed slightly and Edelgard returned it.  Even if Brigid was a vassal state Petra was still a dear friend she was still the heir to another country and deserving of respect.  

"Good skies and fair winds, Petra.  Do us proud, Caspar, Bernadetta."  Her three friends nodded and in time, Jeralt's loud cry echoed through the square.

"Alright, everyone!  We've got a long, hard ride off, so fortify yourselves!  March out!"

* * *

Byleth felt more than heard Edelgard stand at attention behind her right shoulder, gaze steadfast.  "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," Byleth shrugged, tugging her coat a bit tighter around her shoulders.  "This is going to be the longest I've been without them in a while.  Occasionally dad will take mom out for a week or two on vacation, but who knows how long this will take.  What is your grand plan?"

"Yes, what is your grand plan, dear niece?"  Byleth felt a shadow drip down her spine at this, and turned to see the man who talked.

"Lord Arundel.  I did not hear you arrive.  This is my newest paramour, Byleth Eisner.  Byleth, this is my uncle and the old Lord Regent, Volkhard von Arundel."

"I've heard much of what you did for the Empire in the last few years, Lord Arundel," Byleth bowed, a surprising show of diplomacy. "It's an honor to meet you."

"And the tales of the Ashen Demon are known far and wide around here these days.  How did you two meet, if I might ask?"  There was something in his smile that was oily and odious, but Byleth held her tongue.

"We met at the Millennium Festival.  She defeated all my allies in combat and we connected.  I'm sure you're here to remind me of my imperial duties?"  Edelgard put one hand on her hip and the other on the small of Byleth's back.  She felt a flush creep up her neck.

"Of course, your Majesty.  The Council awaits."  Arundel extended an arm, and Byleth smelt something rank.  Not like the burnt coal of Hubert's dark magic, but something more...ancient.  Haunted.  She felt her nose wrinkle and Arundel's eyes widened.

"Is something the matter, Lady Eisner?  As the Emperor's consort I am at your disposal."

"I think you need better cologne."

A pregnant pause. 

Edelgard braced her eyes in her hand, wisely choosing not to say anything.

"I just mean, it might just be me being what you'd call a 'country bumpkin' and not knowing the societally accepted scents for this season.  Milord."  

"Let's take it at that, and head inside.  The Council is eagerly awaiting your return."

"Then let us greet them."  Edelgard extended an elbow to Byleth, and she took it eagerly.  Together, they entered the winding, twisting halls of the Imperial Capital.

* * *

"Took your time, hm?"  Edelgard's mouth curled into a sneer as Duke Aegir's words rolled across her ears.  Unlike his son's words who she sometimes acknowledged, she didn't think Prime Minister Aegir had ever said anything of worth in her time as Emperor.  

"My apologies,  _Prime Minister_ ," She growled, taking her place at the head of the table, Byleth following to stand behind her right shoulder.  She made eye contact with the other five "old birds", as Dorothea called them, and Hubert, at his place as Minister of the Imperial Household.  "I have returned.  What is on the agenda for today?"

And like always, the council went right over her head.  Count Bergliez, Minister of Military Affairs, suggested an increase in funding for military gambit training, and Dukes Gerth, the Minister of the Exterior, and Hevring, Minister of the Interior, immediately supported him.  Edelgard tried to redirect it, but they ignored her.

"We could use that money for new schools, you know.  So your future soldiers can read as they die in your useless conflicts," she spat.  

"Well, you are overruled, your Majesty," Arundel condescended, even schooling his features into a mockery of sympathy.  

"I bring to the table a vote to introduce a higher tax on the upper nobility to repair our horrid hygiene department."

"Oh, my apologies, Emperor," Count Varley, Minister of Religion, mocked, "but I think the church is in higher need of their tithes than the wretched poor.  Let them wallow in their own filth."

"Seconded," Duke Aegir slammed his meaty palm on the table and Edelgard slammed hers in return.  

"Vetoed."  Edelgard stood up, Byleth flinching back.

"I second the veto," Hubert braced his palms on the table, shadows stretching across his face.

"Veto overruled by five-to-two," Arundel smirked, idly tracing a map on the table.  "However, we have a bigger concern.  We forgot to welcome our guest.  It seems our esteemed Emperor has a new pet."

As one, almost on queue, the five old birds looked at Byleth, identical grins on their faces.  "Welcome to Enbarr, whore."  

Byleth gaped, storming out, coat snapping behind her.  Edelgard stood to attention, going to turn, but Hubert's gaze pacified her.  She knew the next part of the plan.  

"That was completely inappropriate, gentlemen.  I'd expect apologies but I know you'd never give them.  This meeting is adjourned.  As per my right as Emperor that even you all can't ignore, new proposals must be left on my desk before the end of the week.  Failure to comply will be met with the usual punishment - "

"As if that would stop us.  Really, dear niece, what is the point?"  Arundel drawled.

"How dare you - " Hubert stood up, but dark chains held his wrists to the arms of his chair.

"Enough prattling, whelp," Gerth yawned, "you both are dismissed."

* * *

Byleth stormed off down the hallway, twisting and turning mindlessly.  Those assholes called her a - 

She stopped, pivoted, drew her longsword and braced, a silver blade crashing into her guard.  A man emerged holding it, mask on his face.

"Who the hell are you?"

"Good reflexes."  The man sheathed his blade and drew his cloak over it, reaching up to remove his mask.  His eyes were kind, Byleth thought, but...somewhat empty.  How odd.  

"I am Jeritza von Hrym.  I am the Emperor's man, and your informant.  Prepare yourself.  We have work to do, starting tomorrow."

"What do you mean, we have work to do?  What was that all about?"

"I needed to test your reflexes.  We are going...into hell."

"I legitimately don't know what you're saying."

"Don't mind Jeritza.  Despite his...unique outlook, his is vital to the cause."  Byleth jumped, turning around to see Hubert step out of the shadows, nodding solemnly at Jeritza.  

"Oh, man, Hubert.  Warn me next time.  First I have this lunatic attack me out of nowhere and now you do your shadow-walking trick."  Byleth sheathed her sword and huffed.

"Heh.  Jeritza, what have you found?"

"Marquis von Vestra.  I think it's another laboratory.  I'll share more tomorrow."  Jeritza turned and stalked down the hall, Hubert following on his heels.

"I guess I have to follow, huh?  Alright."  She was about to say more before a mass of cloth landed on her face, squawking indignantly.

"Put that on," Jeritza instructed, pulling his own hood up with Hubert mirroring the motion.  "You'll need to go undercover.  Meet us tomorrow right before the noonday bell rings.  Bring that and your sword."  And with that they vanished into the shadows again.

"What in the shitting hell?"  Byleth looked around to see a note pinned to a door.

* * *

_Byleth,_

_If you're reading this, you've been told of our plan for tomorrow_ _._

"Yeah, a little."  Byleth snarked.

_These are our quarters.  I'll be around in a bit.  We've got things to discuss before your mission.  The Empire doesn't sleep, after all._

_Yours,_

_Edelgard_

* * *

"Byleth?  What are you - ah, I see you found my letter," Edelgard swept towards her partner, intentionally stepping louder to make herself known.  She closed the door to her - no, their - quarters.  Goodness knows what Jeritza and Hubert did.  

"Yes, I did.  These rooms are for us?"

"They're mine, but now they're.  Ours?  I would like to apologize for whatever Viscount von Hrym and Marquis von Vestra may have done or said.  Come, this way.  My duties are over for the day, and we've much to discuss."  Edelgard extended her arm again and Byleth took it, but much more lightly.  Edelgard turned and locked the door.

There was a moment of silence, before Edelgard spoke once again.  "There are no ears in this hallway.  Speak if you want."

"What the council did and said to you...it's not right.  They have no right to treat you that way."  

"If you're curious, it's not because that I'm a woman.  In their eyes...I am theirs.  Their tool that refuses to do what they want."

"What...what do you mean?"

"Those five...they are the shadowy group I told you about.  Those who Slither in the Dark."

* * *

Secretly, through a peephole - 

_"Why do we even bother with her, Thales?"  Duke Aegir - no, Cassius - remarked flippantly, disguise sloughing off like a snake sheds its skin._

_"Because she is important!  We achieve nothing by needling her so relentlessly.  We must let her think she has power.  Then, when she charges off..."  Thales trailed off, wiping away any remnant of Lord Arundel._

_"I see. A good plan as always," Duke Gerth, or Trindamiir, nodded._

_"And you're not worried about spies?"  Asked Count Varley, known as Astore._

_"Why would he be?"  Count Hevring, also known as Samael, asked, "not like anyone can do anything._

_"Not like anyone can stop us, correct?"  Count Bergliez, or Cornell, nodded sagely.  These five men, skin pale and eyes blank, confident in their purpose were in agreement._

_"Correct.  But let us reconvene down below, at a later time, we know not of what prying eyes and ears know of.  Put stage three into effect.  Activate asset beta-four-five, and guide the next candidate towards collection marker ten-one-six.  Dismissed."_

_And like that, five shadowy figures melted into the darkness of the council room, their disturbing plans marching ever forward._

* * *

"Regardless, you'll be working with Jeritza and Hubert to suss out what Those who Slither are doing in the slums," Edelgard continued, arm tightening around Byleth's.  The mercenary took Edelgard's hand in hers and squeezed it.  "They might seem insidious but they are on my side.  Our side.  Hubert, as you know, is my closest confidant and my one allowance on the Council.  Jeritza...is the sole survivor of house Hrym.  He's a relative unknown in the Court, and that makes him perfect for what I need him to do."

"Is he an assassin?"

"Not quite.  But by giving him a solid support network, he is ever-loyal and well cared for.  Revenge is a neat way to secure someone's allegiance, but he is very good at his job."

"That sounds a bit like blackmail."

"Still, I rely on him in my stead.  I hope he didn't fight you."

"We clashed swords."

Edelgard turned to glare at Byleth.

"It wasn't my fault!  He attacked first, and only once.  He was remarkably restrained."

"He's improved, then.  Regardless - "

"Edelgard!" The Emperor turned to see Dorothea running towards her, only to bow at the last minute, as per protocol.  "I see you're finally out of the Council chambers!  Please, you must come with me, it's very urgent!"

"Dorothea.  What's the emergency this time?"

The songstress giggled, "I just can't get over how cute the two of you are together!"  Edelgard felt as red as her cloak, but Byleth took it in stride.

"My thanks, my lady.  And you are...?"

"This is Dorothea, one of my old friends," Edelgard swept a hand out, and Dorothea curtsied, a grin on her lips.  "Soon to be Dorothea von Aegir...?"

"Edie!"  Dorothea slapped Edelgard's arm, blushing furiously.  "You can't bring that up here!"

"Consider it vengeance.  Regardless, what is it this time?"

"Oh, he was so thoughtful!"  Dorothea put her hands under her chin, starry-eyed.  "He took me to the gardens for tea, and - oh, I must tell you in full, in private!  Come, come!"  She started to drag Edelgard, and by proxy Byleth, along with her.

"I'd do what she says," Edelgard whispered to Byleth, who nodded sagely.  "Tends to work out best for everyone."

"I heard that!"

* * *

Later, that night - 

"Why can't I be big spoon?"  Byleth muttered into Edelgard's arm, nothing but sweat between them and sheets over them.

"Especially here in Enbarr, I give the orders.  So again - I am big spoon."

"We'll see about that now!"  Byleth twisted and turned, pinning Edelgard - 

There was not a lot of arguing after that.

* * *

The next morning, Byleth pulled on her new cloak (it had a very off smell but she tried her best to ignore it).  After a rather subdued breakfast after last night's antics, Byleth finally navigated her way to where Hubert's note said to go.

"Are you prepared?"  Jeritza was propped against a wall, looking not-at-all discrete with his hooded cloak and several obvious weapons.  Byleth also thought that that Hubert was extremely conspicuous but that was just his general aura he gave off.

"I guess?"  Byleth shrugged, hooded cloak curled around her shoulders.  She had to leave her usual coat in her room, but she saw Edelgard hold it and give it a sniff which while a little weird was also endearing.  

"Come.  We have much to investigate," Hubert nodded, striding away, Jeritza on his trail and Byleth running to catch up.

"Can you walk a teeny bit slower?  I can't help that I have short legs."

Jeritza barked a short laugh, but stopped when he saw Hubert's death glare.  "Hmm.  A bit.  We have much to do, as Hubert said."

"How bad are the slums?"  Byleth leaned forward to look at the two men, and saw Jeritza roll his eyes.

"Don't get him started on this - "

"It  _would_ be a lot better if the Council let us do what her Majesty wanted," Hubert snarled.  "All our plans for public schools and sanitation projects, to help those downtrodden survive and live more than a meager existence, they are all struck down by the Council. 

"You heard them yesterday, what they plan to do with the funding.  Reduce taxes on the extremely wealthy and tax the lower classes more; give the church a tax break so they can proselytize and pretend to help the poor while lining their own pockets.  Increase our military for grand posturing and nonsense wars.  It's ludicrous."

"I didn't expect you to be so passionate about this," Byleth squinted at the tall man, who bared his teeth.

"I wasn't, originally, but her Majesty impressed upon me the need to help the impoverished."

"Our Emperor...she really does all she can for the beaten and the damned.  You'll see soon enough.  Through here."  Jeritza looked around quickly before opening a servant's door, leading the two down a long, winding hallway.  They emerged, and - 

"Goddess save us."  Byleth's jaw dropped.  The slums were dirty, grimy, and overall disgusting.  Homeless people littered the streets in front of broken-down hovels.  The three passed a man with a sign reading 'goddess save us, the veterans' and Byleth dropped a few coins in his jar.  

"You didn't need to do that."  Hubert whispered.

"If not I, then who?"

They passed a few members of the Church of Seiros, preaching in their opulence and not once giving notice to the people living in squalor.  Byleth felt herself gearing up for a rant, but Jeritza pulled her along, nodding at the building ahead.

"Go higher.  Intel says that this church has some incriminating evidence.  Hubert and I will distract them, while you go around back."  Jeritza tightened his hood and put on his mask, his eyes growing darker.  Hubert smiled darkly, hand trailing miasma as he passed by a column holding up a decorative piece of sculpture.  The church's brickwork started to crumble and age, a piece of the roof falling down as the church members and patrons started scrambling.  

"There he is!  Saboteur!"  A militiaman shouted, pointing at Hubert and Jeritza.  "After them!"  A rallying cry emerged, sending the two men running down a small alley.  Byleth looked around, stumped.

"Hey, miss,"  Byleth turned to see the veteran behind her.  "Side entrance is on the other side of the church.  Touch the brick that don't belong."

"Why are you helping me?"

"You helped me.  And besides, sometimes people go in there, and when they come out they're...different.  Not themselves."

"Thanks."  Byleth dropped the veteran a few more coins, and walked quickly to the back of the church.

* * *

_"Here.  Your reward."  The veteran turned and extended his hand, gold pieces dropping into his palms._

_"Of course, Lord Aegir.  Thanks for business."_

_"A pleasure."_

* * *

Edelgard looked up at the knock on her door.  She clearly wasn't expecting anyone, not with Byleth, Jeritza and Hubert out...so...

She palmed her axe under the desk and stood up.  "Enter."  The door creaked open.

"M-m-mother?  What...what are you doing here?"  Edelgard's jaw dropped.  No, it couldn't be.

"Oh, Edelgard!  I finally found you!"  Patricia - no, her mother - ran forward, drawing Edelgard into her arms.  "Oh, look at you!  You've grown so much!"

"Mother, I don't believe it!  What, what are you...?"

"I've been in captivity for the last nine years, but I finally broke free.  Now, we can be a family again!  Oh, Edelgard, I missed you so much!"  Patricia stroked her hair, and Edelgard tried her damnedest not to cry.  But why...?  Her mother took her head between her hands, looking at her in the eyes firmly.  And then, Edelgard knew.  

"Wait, you're not...who are you?"  Edelgard backed away, gripping her axe more firmly.

"What do you mean?  I'm your mother!"

"No, no you're not."  Edelgard settled into a stance, and saw Arundel's smile on her mother's face.  Sure, they were siblings, but...that sinister gaze...

Her axe rose and fell, and Patricia's head rolled from her shoulders.  The illusion shimmered and vanished, revealing a blank gaze and bone-white skin.

"Tut-tut, little niece.  A mistake."

"Thales.  What do you want?"

"Maybe an excuse.  Now, you're no longer the little girl I used to...teach, but I can still impart a lesson.  But so tragic."

"What is?!  Answer me, Thales!"

"That lady of yours," Arundel turned to leave, venom dripping from his fangs, "what was her name again?  Beres?"

"Byleth," Edelgard whispered.  

"Hmm.  Farewell, little niece."

Edelgard chased, but he vanished. 

Oh no.  Goddess, no. 

* * *

Byleth poked the brick, which was really, really obvious.  The gears twisted and turned, and a doorway opened up.

"It can't be this easy."

It really was that easy.  Which was what gave her such an uncomfortable feeling of disgust.  Her eyes adjusted and she saw what looked like a normal church office, papers strewn across desks.  She stalked over and began flipping through to see speeches and sermons.  Not what she needed.  

"This must be the bishop's desk.  Let's see if there are any tricks to it..." She fumbled around and found a small button and pushed it, the floor next to the desk peeling back to reveal a staircase.  Byleth looked around, cautious, and headed down.  

In hindsight, it probably wasn't the best move.  

She reached the bottom of the staircase, and it was pitch-black.  She lit her hand with Aura, and golden light seeped out around her.

"Welcome, subject," a voice boomed out.  The lights flashed on.  

Surrounding her was an army - an uncountable amount of the same woman, over and over again in glass tubes, starring lifelessly at her.

"These are Kronya.  You can call me Solon."  A man descended, with a large forehead and a gnarled, metal staff.  He clenched his free hand and one of the tubes of girls imploded, crushing its content to fuel Solon's power.  Darkness wrapped around Byleth as she screamed, leaving her hands and head open.  She was dragged over to the man, who held his hand in front of her face. 

An explosion of pain and she saw shimmering in front of her - a Crest?

"Ah, did daddy dearest never tell you about this?  What luck for us, a Crest of Seiros.  Let us see, if like our other Seiros test-subject, you will also be compatible with the rival Crest."  

"What the hell are you - agh! - talking about?"

"Save your strength.  The real experiment will be soon."

Then, all she knew was darkness.

* * *

"Your Majesty."  Hubert bowed as he entered Edelgard's study, Jeritza not far behind.

"I hope you have better news," Edelgard frowned, and Hubert looked grim.

"We lost Byleth," Jeritza nodded, looking around before speaking.

"What do you mean, 'lost'?  How do you lose a person?"

"Probably by looking in places they don't belong.  And for destroying a gift, I think," Arundel announced himself, breezing into her study.

"Arundel.  What is the meaning of this!?  Tell me where she is!"

"Oh, she's safe and sound.  For now.  In the future...not so much."

"Damn you!  I'll kill you!"  Edelgard stood to her full height, but Hubert pulled her back.

"He's just goading you.  We'll find her, your Majesty."

"I doubt that very much, boy," Arundel smiled, and it was an evil thing.  "A good day to you all.  Next time, keep your harlot on a leash, lest you lose her more easily."  And with that he swept out of the room.

"Byleth...no..."  Edelgard shrugged Hubert's hold off and stormed forward, but Thales disappeared in a haze of mist.  

Goddess forgive her.  

Goddess forgive them all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *looks back* ah shit. Sorry for the wait. a lot has happened. My boss left, we got a new one, I got into grad school, I quit my job. So I have a whole month to write! This is Not Dead, and neither is Vintage if you read that. In a few months I'm gonna start writing ANOTHER p5 novelization but royal this time and a lot better because boy howdy. Anyway, we've got a lot in this fic! Next chapter is going to focus on Esmé and Jeralt in Faerghus doing their shit. 
> 
> Ok for ships. Sorry I didn't go with a lot of the ones you all recommended but hey. I'm sure some of you like the ones I have. Ships seen so far: caspar/bernadetta, ferdinand/dorothea.
> 
> I know it might seem disjointed but we're getting there.
> 
> As always please please please please leave a comment/kudos! Even if you have already!


	9. Cold Front

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Esmé and Jeralt arrive in Faerghus to recruit Dimitri and the Blue Lions to their cause. A former heroine makes a rather terrible entrance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ah shit, here we go again

Jeralt shivered atop his horse, inadvertently shaking Esmé awake.  He had wrapped them in a thick cloak atop his horse, Brutus, and the warhorse huffed heavily.

"You're not enjoying this either, are you?"  Jeralt whispered, patting Brutus fondly on the flank.  Esmé stretched languidly, tiredly, pulling Jeralt's prosthetic a bit tighter.  

"Were you talking to me, or the horse?"  Esmé turned in the saddle to press a rough kiss to his beard, and he chuckled gruffly.  

"Both, I guess.  I know you're cold-blooded so I know you don't like Faerghus.  But Brutus here's made of tough stuff.  Aren't you?"  

Brutus huffed in response, shaking his shaggy mane as they stamped on and on.  

"Do you think Petra's cold up there, on her wyvern?" Esmé asked idly.  "I wonder if I could make some fish stew for her...but fish is hard to come by.  Hm."

"You're thinking too loud," Jeralt muttered, his hand reaching up to pinch at his wife's delicate side.  She squealed and squirmed.

"Jeralt I swear if you drop me I'm going to - "

"Going to what?"

Esmé turned and pouted, and Jeralt's face dropped.  He never could say no to that face.  "Never mind.  We're almost to Fhirdiad.  Just a bit longer, and we'll be inside."

"Mm."  Esmé wrapped herself more comfortably and snuggled back and Jeralt felt his heart go warm.  He turned back to see Sir Bergliez and Lady von Varley in a similar position as theirs, and the rest of the mercenary company behind them.  A wry smile twisted his mouth a bit, and he let loose a soft chuckle.  

* * *

Esmé could distantly recall going to Fhirdiad in the past.  Much of her own childhood was covered in a haze of mystery, idle thoughts and actions guided by Rhea.  While the Archbishop had called everyone her child, it rang especially true for her.  It wasn't until she met Jeralt that she really woke up.  Still, she roused herself out of her memories as they arrived at the gates to the city.  The doors creaked open, and there stood Dimitri, the Tempest King.  Esmé distantly remembered a story of another man with the same epithet, but it swept by like the cold northern winds.  They came to a stop right outside the city gates, dismounting easily as stablehands streamed from the guard posts, taking reins and soothing mounts.  Next to Dimitri stood his two retainers, Gustave and Dedue, armored mountains of men.  Esmé and Gustave made eye contact and the elderly knight nodded fondly.  She could feel Jeralt rolling his eyes and she discretely elbowed him in the ribs.  

She slid off Brutus, dipping into a bow in front of Dimitri.  "Your Highness.  Thank you for welcoming us to Fhirdiad."

"Of course!  It is my pleasure, after all," Dimitri nodded pleasantly.  "Let's get you all inside.  We have much to discuss."

"Of course, Your Highness.  Jeralt, be nice, alright?"  Esmé turned and tugged at her husband's arm and he huffed mightily.  "Don't be a grouch."

"Fine, fine.  If you insist."

"I do," Esmé smiled, and wrapped her arm around his.

The cold Faerghus air wrapped around the company, and in the distance, monsters moved into position.

* * *

Dimitri quickly escorted everyone into the main hall, and Jeralt instantly found himself awash in nostalgia.  It was like he was back in Garreg Mach as an impressionable young knight.  Apparently all the kids went to school together, and all the reunions missed at the Millennium Festival were reunited here and now.  Sir Bergliez put Duke Lonato in a headlock as the Lady Dominic scolded the both of them as Princess Macneary pointed out all of Sir Bergliez's flaws in his chokehold.  Margrave Gautier poked fun at Lady von Varley as Duke Fraldarius and Lady Galatea looked on with annoyance and fondness respectively.  Jeralt did notice the straying eyes, however.  

Margrave Gautier and Lady Galatea seemed oddly close, and he well noticed Duke Fraldarius and Lady Dominic locking eyes and smiling, a faint smile and blush on the duke's face.  How interesting.  Esmé poked his arm and pointed, and Jeralt raised his eyebrows, expectant.  There in the corner were Sir Molinaro and Lady von Maltritz, and the lady pressed a quick kiss to the heavily armored fellow.  

"Were we like that?"  Jeralt whispered, and Esmé nodded.

"Not to that extent, but still.  It is all quite adorable, isn't it?"

"Hmm.  Pardon me, my lady.  I need to talk with a certain knight, it seems."

"Gustave?  Gilbert?  Whatever he goes by?  A good call."  Esmé nodded and made her way over to the kids (they were all kids in his eyes, after all.  After the first hundred years or so, there's only younger and older), idly picking up a drink.

"Gilbert," Jeralt said quietly as he sidled up to the elderly knight.  His eyes were less flinty than they were twenty years ago, and more wrinkles lined his face.  But he seemed...at peace.

"Sir Eisner.  Welcome to Fhirdiad."

"Still a man of few words, I see."

"I speak when needed," Gilbert nodded.  "I learned that lesson the hard way, nine years ago."

"The Tragedy of Duscur, huh?"

"Yes.  After my assignment at Garreg Mach, I learned some things.  Things that let me...be a better person.  Your wife...shared some knowledge."

"Oh?" Jeralt crossed his arms, leaning onto one leg.  

"Yes.  How to be a better parent, for one.  After the Tragedy, I did not run away.  I wanted to.  But Esmé's words came back to me.  To face things head on.  I'm happy I did.  I'm sure if things were different, His Highness would not be well.  We - the old Duke Fraldarius and I - supported him.  And so, His Highness was saved, so to speak."

"That's Esmé for you.  What about the eye?"

"Oh, that?  Well..." Gilbert sighed heavily.  Not an easy story.  "When he was younger, His Highness went off to quell a rebellion.  Maybe if things were different he would be more hard-hearted, but he tried to negotiate with rebels.  They almost listened, but one of them attacked him."

"A hard lesson to learn."  Jeralt nodded sagely.

"Still, it bothers me..." Gilbert trailed off.  "The words those rebels said years ago still haunt me.  They said something about a coming tide.  An oncoming storm.  Blessings as curses."

"So?  Ramblings of madmen."  

"Not when it was around the time that Lady Cornelia came back.  And not the same as she was when she cured the plague."

"You know, Her Imperial Majesty mentioned something like that.  People not appearing as they seem."  Jeralt scratched his chin, and everyone's attention went to the wide double doors as they spread open.

* * *

"Cornelia.  What a surprise," Esmé muttered as she turned away from Dedue and Mercedes.  

"You know her, Mrs. Eisner?" Mercedes tilted her head as she peered around her.

"Not well enough.  But well enough to know she didn't used to stink of dark magic."

"Hm.  Mercedes, I am going to alert the guards.  Keep an eye on His Highness." Dedue spoke softly and disappeared into the shadows.

"I don't know how he does that, for how large he is," Esmé muttered as Cornelia strutted in, heading directly for Dimitri.

"Me neither.  I have a bad feeling about this."

"Trust your gut and gather your friends.  If the rumors are true..."

"What rumors?"

Esmé groaned and pressed a hand to her forehead.  "Mechanical beasts.  Get everyone ready, but quietly.  I have a feeling I know what's going to happen."

Mercedes nodded and walked off, trying to appear calm.  It worked, if only slightly.

"...I have here, a report from the late King Lambert.  It says that...oh.  Esmé.  What are you doing here?"  Cornelia turned to face Esmé and she wondered idly how Cornelia wasn't cold wearing...that.  Or how it stayed on.

"What's more important is why you are here.  Surely not to cause dissent, are you?"  Esmé crossed her arms and scowled.  

"Of course not," Cornelia smiled cruelly and Esmé felt something run up her back.  "Just to sort out some inheritance issues.  And to let His Highness know of a recent Imperial attack on the border lands."

"What attack?" Dimitri growled, and his fists were clenched.  

"Oh, the usual.  It does need your immediate attention, my lord."

"Enough, Cornelia," Gilbert stepped up and barked.  "It's actually convenient you arrived.  I have evidence that you committed treason against the crown by murdering Rodrigue Achille Fraldarius and conspiracy against the crown."

"On what charges?" Cornelia stepped back, arms crossed under her chest.  Gilbert simply pulled some papers out and shoved them in her face.  She didn't even read them before her face morphed into a snarl, hands dripping with magic.  

"Damn you, Gustave!"  Cornelia waved her hands and - 

There was a great sound as tile and flooring cracked beneath severe weight.  The Titanus were here. They loomed heavily over the crowd of former students, imposing and mighty.  

"Cornelia!"  Dimitri stepped forward.  "We can talk this out!  Bare the truth and we will be merciful!"  

"Out of the way, boar!"  Duke Fraldarius charged forward and pulled Dimitri out of the way as a Titanus swung its blade, sinking it deep into the flooring.  "Stubborn ass!"

"Language, Felix!"  Gilbert shouted, drawing his axe and setting his shield into position.

"Dad, we have greater problems!" Lady Dominic shouted back, wind fluttering beneath her robes.

* * *

Jeralt snapped to attention.  It was now or never.  "Everyone, listen up!"  Finally, silence.  It seemed even those weird giant metal things stopped to listen.  What did he have to work with?

Not much, it seemed.  Some mounted combatants without their mounts, two mages, two armors, and His Highness.  Some archers.  He's dealt with worse.  "Armors and knights, up front!  Mages, pair up with a frontline for coverage!  Archers, get to the second floor and wait for my command!  We can bring them down, together!"

There was another pause.

"Listen to the man, already!"  His Highness shouted and brandished his lance, the relic glowing red in the light.  The kids sprang into action and he turned to his wife.

"Esmé, get ready.  Stay by me, alright?"

"Of course.  I don't like these odds, Jeralt.  We don't have any gambits, so - "

"We'll figure something out," he felt himself smile and he drew his sword.  Not his preferred weapon, but with desperate times come desperate measures.  He looked at his prosthetic and sighed.  

"Armors, on the right!"  Jeralt pointed his sword at the respective beast, and Sir Dominic and Sir Molinaro stepped forwards, clanking heavily.  "Archers, focus fire on that one!  Aim for the elbows and knees!"  He heard the nocking of arrows to bowstrings and grinned.

"Knights, on the left!  Use hit-and-run tactics to keep it distracted!  Healers, keep an eye out!" He turned to look the king in the eye and smiled.  "Your Highness, wait for my order."

"Yes, Captain!"

They charged.  

Even without his orders, it seemed the kids naturally bunched together into effective pairs.  Margrave Gautier and Lady Galatea skated around the beast, covering each other as well as they did in the arena.  Duke Fraldarius always knew when Lady Dominic would send a gust of wind at the beast and he would instinctively retreat to guard her when the monster would target her.  The archers in the rafters were an effective trio, with Duke Lonato and Lady Macneary working excellently in tandem.  Sir Bergliez would always follow-up on an opening formed by Lady von Varley, and Lady von Maltritz always happened to know when Sir Molinaro was in need of healing.  What do you know?

Things didn't help when soldiers streamed in, clad in the colors of the Empire.  Jeralt froze.  

"They're not ours!"  Sir Bergliez shouted as he ducked a large blade.  "Those aren't our warriors!  They must be that crazy lady's!"

Jeralt grinned, and threw himself into combat.  One reason he liked fighting on horseback was the mobility and distance, but he didn't have a choice.  No horse, no shield, no real backup.  Could be worse.  A fake soldier screamed and ran at him, and he stepped into the man's guard, shoulder-checking him and twisting down, stabbing deep.  He pulled it free with a mighty wrench as Esmé threw fire and sagittae as needed.  He brushed his hair aside, just starting to sweat as there was a loud bang, followed by a wyvern's cry.

"Knights, charge!"

Oh, no.  Not him.  Jeralt peered around one of the monsters to see Alois and the Knights of Seiros behind him.  

Great.

"Your Highness, now!"  He pointed at one of the monsters and Dimitri charged, Areadbhar glowing brightly.  His crest flared and the lance glowed in response as he unleashed Atrocity.  Dimitri slammed into the titan and it collapsed, red light scattering around its limbs before it finally dropped.  Gilbert and Sir Molinaro slid into position in front of their liege as he cooled down, steam lifting from his body.  

Jeralt let loose a sigh as combat wrapped up, and as Seteth dragged a particularly unwilling Cornelia to the front.

* * *

Esmé watched as Seteth and Catherine held their weapons to Cornelia's throat.  She seemed remarkably at ease for the danger.

"Oh well," Cornelia mused as Dimitri stared at her hard.  "I guess my plan failed.  What a pity."

"You don't seem particularly annoyed as you were at the beginning of this," Dimitri's eye narrowed, "in fact, you seem pleased.  What's your game?"

"Not for you, little king.  Wouldn't you like to know how your daughter is doing, Esmé?"

Her hands closed into fists, "what did you do?"

"It's more what she will do.  Let's just say she stumbled onto some unfortunate secrets.  Such a pity you have your orders and can't go.  Oh, what to do?"

"You're right.  We can't go," Jeralt's gruff voice didn't help.

"Jeralt...I'm worried.  What if she's saying the truth?"

Her husband snorted, "we still have other people.  Lonato, Macneary!  How fast can you get back to Enbarr?"

"Quick enough, captain," Petra nodded, eyes trained on Cornelia.  "Do not be worrying.  Ashe and I can get there quick enough.  He is...weighty enough for me to be carrying him."

"Do I get any say in this?"  Ashe muttered, but was ignored.

Cornelia smiled.

"What's so funny?" Esmé stepped forward, crouching a bit to get on eye-level with Cornelia.

"I thought you'd be more incensed.  Usually a parent's weakness is their children."

"Then you underestimate Byleth and us.  What was your real plan?"

"You'll have to see.  Even now, our agents are spreading chaos and disturbance.  But..." Cornelia's eyes brightened and Esmé's heart jumped.

"Don't!"

"You'll not get anything from me!"  And Cornelia thrust her neck forward.  Blood splattered the floor as her head landed a foot away from her body, and the illusion shimmered and faded.

* * *

Jeralt shivered atop his horse, nose still sick with the scent of blood and oil.  He had sent the rest of his company back to Enbarr as he and Esmé headed to Leicester as part of Edelgard's plan.  Unfortunately, he wasn't counting on the Tempest King and all his friends joining them.

"Are you sure this is a good idea, kid?"  He scowled at Dimitri, thing blue cloak thrown over dark armor.  

"I am.  If we are all in cooperation, then nothing can go wrong."

"Stubborn boar," Jeralt heard Duke Fraldarius mutter as Lady Dominic whapped him on the shoulder.

"Whatever.  Just don't slow us down.  I am worried about my daughter, and we've got much to do."

"Yes, we do.  For a unified Fódlan...there is much we need to accomplish.  But working together, we can - "

"Your Highness, please hold your voice," Sir Molinaro rode up, eyes kind.  "There is no need to announce our presence ahead of time."

Dimitri coughed lightly.

Jeralt felt more than heard Alois ride up next to him.

"So, together again, captain!"

"Not another word, Alois."

"W-well, I did bring reinforcements.  Seteth, Flayn, Cyril, Lady Catherine and Dame Shamir!  I thought you'd be impressed."

"I am.  How'd you know where we were?"

He felt Esmé squirm in the saddle and Jeralt's eyes widened.

"You willingly wrote him?"

"Listen, Her Imperial Majesty said to gather as many allies as we could - "

" - And that included Alois?"

" - And I figured that your old squire would help and bring friends!"

Jeralt sighed as Alois let out a hearty laugh.  One crisis averted, for now.  Who knew what waited in the land of the Golden Deer?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Combat chapter yayyyyyy. See if you can spot the ships! Hopefully this chapter was a lot less disjointed since i wasn't flipping between two different POV's. Also.
> 
> Head's up for next chapter: it will have some pretty heavy themes of torture. Angstiest thing i've ever written. Heavy content warning. Just a warning.
> 
> As always, leave a kudos/comment if you enjoyed. If you've done so already, do it again. It does mean a lot.


	10. Dead Air

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edelgard looks for Byleth, who would rather be anywhere else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for torture and somewhat graphic depictions of violence. These parts will be in italics.

Edelgard was not a praying woman.  Having the Crest of Seiros dictated a more religious lifestyle, but her past crushed any desire to put her faith in someone else.  So she did not pray, not anymore.  Not when times were harshest, and not then, when Byleth was gone.  But she couldn't help it, by her lonesome in the dark of Enbarr's palace, a partner gone.  Please, goddess, don't let her be gone.  Please.

* * *

_"Test subject shall be called experiment two," Solon walked off as she was strapped to a table, tilting until it was parallel to the ground.  "Beginning initial pain threshold test.  Start at...twenty-five percent of maximum voltage."_

_She screamed as electricity poured down her spine._

* * *

"Still nothing from your spies?"  Edelgard looked up as Hubert stormed into her office, shutting and locking the door firmly.

"I'm afraid not.  I have Dorothea's report from the underbelly as well, and they say the same thing."  Hubert placed a stack of papers on her desk and she shuffled through them, frowning.

"On one hand we should be happy.  No news is good news when it comes to my slithery uncle.  But still..."

"Nothing in regards to your paramour is not good news."  Hubert crossed his arms, his fringe hiding his gleaming eyes.  "I will do more digging, and apply pressure where needed."

"Good.  Coordinate with Ferdinand, see if he's heard anything from the Council."

"You know as well as I do that the former Duke Aegir doesn't tell his son anything."

"Please, Hubert.  If I don't do something, I'm - "  Edelgard was interrupted as a messenger knocked on the door, loudly.

"Pardon me, Marquis von Vestra and Your Imperial Majesty.  Lady Macneary and a Kingdom noble have arrived, and they seek your audience."

"Petra?  What's she doing back so soon?"  Edelgard stashed the papers under a false drawer and stood, hefting an axe onto a hook in the folds of her cape.  

"I'm not sure, Your Imperial Majesty," the messenger bowed as he opened the door, gesturing for the two to proceed.  "All she said was that it was urgent."

"Let's see what's the issue, then," Hubert nodded, and followed.

* * *

_"You are remarkably resilient, subject," The man was doing something, but she wasn't sure.  Her eyes were pressed closed tightly.  "I think you will make an excellent host."_

_"Why are you doing this?"  She blurt out, but could not move her hands to cover her mouth.  She heard his mouth twist into a foul grin._

_"Why not?  You beasts have no right to anything."  He hit another button and there was more pain, like she was being torn open._

* * *

Linhardt had learned long ago that people thought that he didn't pay attention when his eyes were closed.  One of the many benefits of people thinking he was a lazy noble, as opposed to the truth.  People also hadn't found out that he could mentally control a pen with a small wind spell and right without his hands, and in the dark.  So when he overheard gossip about Edelgard's new paramour, he couldn't help but take notes. Their fault for thinking he was asleep.

"...you sure we should talk about this in the open?" One of them asked.

"Why not?  The poor researcher's asleep," the other chuckled lightly, and Linhardt had to refrain from doing the same.  

"Regardless, send word to the top.  Progress is going well.  The new subject, for some reason, has a connection to the imbuing agent..."  The two began walking away, as Linhardt's pen wrote furiously.  When he heard them leave he bolted upright, his mind whirling.  This wasn't good.  He read over the notes he had written and swallowed heavily, tightening his ponytail.

"Edelgard needs to see this."

* * *

_"Please please please - "_

_"Begging will not save you.  It did not save her, either."_

_"You," she coughed heavily, and was not surprised to see blood splatter her shirt, "you're the ones who did this to Edelgard."_

_"I'm surprised a mere worm like you has capacity for thought at this point."  He turned to a subordinate, "increase voltage by thirty percent."_

* * *

"Petra, welcome back.  And Duke Ubert.  Or is it Gaspard?"  Edelgard nodded to the former and extended a hand to the latter.

"Just Ashe to you, Your Majesty," Ashe bowed, looking a little queasy.  

"We came as quickly as we were able, Edelgard," Petra bowed in response, and then looked around.  "Is this place being...um, secured?"

"As much as possible," Hubert scoffed, his hand trailing dark smoke.  "I've soundproofed this room as best as possible."

"Good," Petra nodded, looking at Ashe fondly.  "Byleth being missing is well known.  We encountered a slithery enemy in Fhirdiad."

"Lady Cornelia was one of them, it seemed," Ashe cut in.  "She somehow knew what happened here and tried to get Captain Eisner to abandon his mission."

"Are they still en route to Derdriu?" Edelgard crossed her arms, worry between her eyebrows.

"If things are still going according to plan," Petra shifted uneasily, eyes still darting to the darkened windows and cracks in the walls.  

"Which they should be," Ashe nodded, brushing hair out of his eyes.  "It seems the enemy is up to something, we just don't know what.  But we came back as reinforcements."

"Well, thank you," Edelgard sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose.  "I need you two to go down into the city and see what you can hear.  Those who slither are trying something."

* * *

_"AAAAAAGGGGGHHHHH!!!!!"  She felt herself scream, sound lost in the dark abyss._

_"Are you sure this won't kill her, Solon?"_

_"I don't care.  We've prepped her as much as we can.  Prepare for full blood infusion and crest implantation."_

* * *

"I'm sorry, Your Majesty, but the Council is meeting and cannot see you," the guards crossed their lances as Edelgard scowled, only matched by Hubert's.

"I fail to see how without the Emperor and one of the council members," Hubert scoffed, but Edelgard lifted a hand up.  

"Open the door."

"I am sorry, but I cannot."

Edelgard sighed lightly, and adjusted one of her crown's horns.  "So be it.  You will move, one way or another."  She drew her axe, and held it to the guard's throat.  "I'd rather not get blood on my clothes.  So hard to wash out."

He swallowed mutely.

"As you wish."

* * *

_"Do it.  Kill me.  Put me out of my misery."_

_"But it would be much more satisfying to see Edelgard when she sees what you have become.  Begin the procedure.  No anesthesia."_

_She heard the whirring of metal and saw a blade descend, glowing in the greenish-blue light.  She swallowed thickly._

* * *

"I will give you one chance to tell me where she is, or I swear - "

"You'll do what, little niece?"  Thales smiled like a snake, and Edelgard felt like she was a child again.  "You have no power here.  How many times must we tell you?"

She slammed her axe into the table, and her crests ignited into the air above her.  Lighting ran down the axehead, and none of the slithery bastards even reacted.  

"WHERE IS SHE?!  As the bearer of your treachery, you will answer me!"

"Not anymore we don't," Cassius scoffed.  "We've just arrived at a conclusion to disband the imperial bloodline.  You have no power here."

"And power is useless if it is not applied," Hubert snarled.  "And without me, you cannot perform a vote like that and have it pass.  According to article five, subsection 3C, a change in power cannot be applied without total unanimous vote.  And I was not here."

"Blast!"  Trinadiir recoiled slightly, before righting.  "How?"

"In your own bylaws," Edelgard snarled, and cleaved the table in two.  "In the laws  _you_ passed keeping you in power.  Keeping me in power.  So I ask again.  Where is Byleth!"

As one, the five councilors touched their ears, and smiled in unison.

"I believe she's ready now.  It seems the procedure was a success."

"No."  Edelgard stepped back, shock trembling through her frame.  "No, it's impossible - "

"I believe you're familiar with the process," Astore nodded, "after all, you were the first success.  Did you know the harlot also had a Crest of Seiros?  Like you?  Maybe that's why it was successful."

"Lies.  You're lying," Hubert snarled. 

"When have we ever lied?"  Thales put a dramatic hand to his chest.  "Only the truth for you.  This session is adjourned."  And with that, the five vanished, and Edelgard held back a tear.

Edelgard was not a person of faith.  But this time, she prayed.  Please, goddess.  Let her be alright.  And give her the strength to live.

* * *

_Byleth woke up slowly, in pain.  But when she opened her eyes, it wasn't the tank she was familiar with.  She was on some sort of stone throne, overlooking a staircase amidst a void of darkness.  She felt odd and pressed a hand to her chest, and...two heartbeats.  She looked around, and pulled a lock of hair in front of her eyes.  Once a dark blue like her mother's, now a pale green.  She gripped the arms of the stone chair firmly.  And then, she heard a voice._

_"You...you...you ABSOLUTE IDIOT!"_

_And there on the the arm of the chair, sitting as if she belonged, was a gremlin._

_"I'm not a gremlin!  By the stars, you are a fool!  Always needing me to hold your hand!"_

_"Who...who are you?"_

_"Oh, Byleth," the child reached out and cupped Byleth's cheek.  "What did you do?  What did they do to you?"_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the shorter chapter, I just needed to move the plot along a bit. I could have included this two cahpters ago but that was getting too long. Regardless, plot! Very exciting stuff. I hope the bad parts weren't super awful. Next chapter has jeralt and esmé in the Alliance doing shit. But we're moving into the heavier stuff. Not as much light hearted stuff, so, sorry about that. Also after next chapter I'll intersperse some main chapters with side fics about some of the other couples. 
> 
> Anyway, please leave a kudos/comment if you enjoyed, particularly if you've already done so. i don't know how we're almost at 10k hits but thank you for making my ramblings on a fictional couple so popular. Thank you, the fans. I love you. Even you. Big shoutout to Marisa for supporting me with this shit.


	11. Roundtable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeralt and Esmé head to the land of the Golden Deer to recruit the Alliance to Edelgard's cause. However, a misunderstanding quickly leads to tension.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> insert meme here

Jeralt let Brutus come to a stop as they overlooked Derdriu.  The City of Water was beautiful, he realized distantly.  Even from a few leagues away they could almost hear the hustle and bustle of the people.  Merchants hawking their wares, petty thieves pilfering loose purses, and haughty nobles scoffing at the poor.  It was life, for people, he figured.  He could remember, almost a hundred years ago, when Derdriu was so much smaller, when people still cared about each other.  But in the distance he could see the great ships, floating on the wind as they sailed off.  

Gods, Esmé was rubbing off on him.  He couldn't remember being this poetic.  She pulled on his tunic, turning slightly.

"Everything all right, dear?"

"Yeah, just remembering this place from when it was younger.  At least it's warmer than Fhirdiad."

"You can say that again," Esmé laughed brightly, and he smiled in response.  He could see out of the corner of his eye Alois smile knowingly, and he gave him a rude gesture that led the knight to burst out in laughter.  "I know you joke that I'm cold-blooded, but I do vastly prefer the warmer weather."

"Not everyone here, it seems," Jeralt jerked his chin towards the Faerghus precession, where King Dimitri sweat heavily under his fur-lined cloak.  "Do you think he can take off the cloak or is it a statement?"

"Probably both," Esmé nodded under his chin and he huffed a sigh.  They could hear some of the Faerghus royals complaining, but he paid it no mind.  He pulled lightly on the reins, and Brutus moved into a cant, plodding lightly back onto the path leading into Derdriu.

* * *

Esmé thoughts twisted as they rode down into Derdriu.  Why could she remember things she couldn't?  Something was wrong.  She blinked, and felt like she was transported into the past.  Why weren't there Alliance flags flying?  What was going on?  She blinked again and the mist cleared, and took in the scene.  She took a deep sniff and sighed, the comforting scent of spice and cooking coming to her easily.  How lovely.  

"So what do you think Her Imperial Majesty's plan is?"  She asked idly and her husband snorted quietly.

"Not a clue.  Supposedly we're all supposed to head to Garreg Mach after this for some grand reunion or something.  She didn't give specifics."

"Hm.  How odd.  Pardon, dear, but do you sense something...off?"

She felt him freeze up, his hand tightening on the reins.  "Yeah, I've been feeling like something's going to go wrong.  It could be the...what are they called?  What's their dumb name?"

Esmé giggled, "I believe it's 'those who slither in the dark'."

"Yeah.  It could be the slithery bastards, but I'm not sure."  He pitched his voice louder as he turned to his company and the Faerghus troop.  "Attention!  Everyone on your best behavior!"

"Please!"  She added, and the Eisner mercenaries laughed.  They stopped as they stared up at the gate to the Alliance's courthouse, where supposedly the Roundtable of Nobles met to discuss politics.  

"How much do you want to bet that there's going to be another big class reunion?" Esmé murmured and Alois rode up and barked a laugh.

"I've learned not to take a sure bet!"

"Shut up, Alois," Jeralt drawled, dismounting and helping Esmé down.  

"You know he doesn't mean that in a mean way, right, Alois?"  Esmé peered around Jeralt's shoulder to smile at the old squire, and he smoothed out his mustache.

"Of course!  That's just the captain being the captain!"  Alois put his hands on his hips as Dimitri and Gustave walked up next to them.

"I see nothing's changed," Gustave murmured, putting a hand to his chin in thought.  

"I don't know, at least one thing's changed," Jeralt held up his prosthetic and Esmé smacked him lightly on the arm.

"Be nice, dear."

"Of course, whatever you say."

"I didn't know the captain was so whipped," Alois stage-whispered to Dimitri, and he laughed.

"Like you're not devoted to your family?"  Gustave elbowed Alois, who reached into his cape and pulled out a small portrait of his wife and daughter.  

"Hah!  You got me!  Oh!  Here they come!"  Alois straightened to attention as the doors opened to show Claude von Riegan and Hilda Valentin Goneril.  

Esmé tried not to notice the trace of light pink lip stain on the Duke's collar, one that matched the Lady Hilda's almost perfectly.

"Dimitri!"  Claude stepped forward and while Dimitri went for a handshake, the Duke pulled him into a hug, thumping him on the back soundly.  "I'm glad you could make it.  Come, come.  Welcome to Derdriu, everyone!"  

* * *

As much as Jeralt didn't want to admit, his wife was right; there was another big class reunion as the Faerghus natives shook hands and shared greetings with the smattering of Alliance kids.  Duke von Riegan and Lady Goneril were oddly close, it seemed, and Sir Victor was talking with Flayn.  Oddly enough Seteth wasn't there as his usual overbearing self towards the two.  Cyril was oddly interested in Lady Ordelia, King Dimitri was talking with Lady Edmund, and Sir Gloucester was not subtle with his eyes towards Leonie.  Speaking of...

"Sir Jeralt!  Wow!  It's been some time, sir!"  Leonie saluted smartly, and he rolled his eyes.

"Calm down, Leonie."

"Oh, Leonie!  How good to see you!"  Esmé stepped forward and wrapped the younger girl in a hug, stepping back to hold her shoulders and look her up and down.  "My, you've grown!  You've been taking care of yourself?"

"Of course!  I am Captain Jeralt's favorite apprentice, and I don't have time to slow down!"  Leonie rubbed her nose, confident.

"I knew you'd say that," he grumbled, and Esmé rubbed his arm fondly.  "Don't you have friends to re-meet?"

"Oh yeah!  Hey, Lorenz!"  She scrambled away as he heaved a sigh of relief.  

"A bit much?"

"You don't know the half of it."

* * *

"Captain Jeralt and the Lady Esmé.  I've heard much about you."  Esmé turned to see a woman walk up, bowing slightly as she approached.  "I'm Judith von Daphnel.  A pleasure."

"The pleasure is ours, Lady Daphnel," Esmé curtsied as Jeralt begrudgingly bowed in response.  "What brings you here?  Last I heard you stepped away from politics."

"Ah, I'm just here to watch over the boy," Judith jerked her thumb behind her to where Claude and Hilda stood, almost arm-in-arm.  "For all the claims and people calling him the 'Master Tactician', he's still just a sprout.  Sometimes he's so deep in his schemes I think he'd forget his own face!"  Judith belted out a strong laugh.  

"Well, everyone's naturally worried for their children," Esmé smiled knowingly, and Judith returned it perfectly.

"I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about."

Jeralt was about to open his mouth but Esmé smoothed her hand up his arm and he shut his mouth.

"So, when does the father learn about the boy and Hilda?"  Esmé smiled and Judith rubbed her head.  

"Keep this to yourself, but..." Judith trailed off into a whisper, Esmé and Jeralt leaning forward.  "Supposedly he's coming in today."

"And you're not worried about the Roundtable finding out?"

"Oh, them?" Judith scoffed, "What are they going to do, blow up the Alliance?"

* * *

"This is an outrage!"  Duke Gloucester slammed a meaty fist on the table, and the papers shook.  Margrave Edmund nodded impassively while his adopted daughter's gaze switched between Dimitri and Sir Gloucester.  Jeralt's eyes flicked back and forth, quickly.  "We can't just let the Almyrans in!  They are our enemy!"

"And why do you say that, Duke Gloucester?"  Claude stood up, bracing against the table.  "Is it because you have vested interest in keeping them out?"

"I care not for their savagery!  Keep them out, I say!"

"Watch your tongue, knave!"  Dimitri spit out.  

"I won't take that from a filthy Kingdom brute like you!"  Duke Gloucester turned red, but Dimitri just stared impassively as the younger generation gawped.  

"Hey!"  Claude shouted, banging his hand against the table.  "That wasn't very nice.  Now, do I have to remind everyone what you promised?  How we all have to play along - "

"Not if this has anything to say about it!"  Margrave Edmund shuffled a piece of paper onto the table, and everything froze.  "Evidence that our esteemed leader has been in communication with the Almyrans.  Who is this Nardel, boy?"  

"Father, what are you doing?"  Lady Edmund placed a hand on her father's chair and stared at him hard.  

"Silence, Marianne."

"Father, you can't do this - " Sir Gloucester started before his father barked a short laugh.

"You forfeited your right to speak when you took up with a commoner."

Sir Gloucester froze.  "How did - "

"That's enough!"  Jeralt stood up and sunk his dagger into the table.  "This arguing does nothing.  So what if Claude's talking with the Almyrans?  Think of the trade opportunities you could have!"

"But they're heretics!  They don't believe in the Goddess!"  Margrave Edmund stood, breathing hard.  

"What does that have to do with anything?  I have been trying to open borders ever since my grandfather died, and - " Claude cut himself off, composing himself.  "So what if I'm related to an Almyran?  Doesn't my father have a right to know - "

"Goddess you all stink!"  Hilda cut in, and Claude waved his hands desperately.  "Just because he wants to let his father know we're - "

"Hilda!"  Claude tried to stop her, but it was too late.

"So you're saying your dad wants to know who you're with?"  Jeralt raised a brow.  "That's it?  No invasion?"

"Of course not!"  Claude slumped in his seat, defeated.  "So, Duke Gloucester?  Are you and Margrave Edmund going to blow up the Alliance just because of this?"

"Look at the paper!"  Margrave Edmund slid it forward, but Esmé caught it and scanned it quickly.

"This is a forgery, my good friends," Esmé stood and paced, all eyes on her.  "This isn't from Nader the Undefeated proclaiming his invasion.  It's been magically altered.  I'm guessing, Claude, it initially said he just wanted to meet Hilda?"

"You got me."

"We get it, honorable figures of the Roundtable," Jeralt crossed his arms, displeased.  "You're worried.  You're all parents, concerned for your children's futures.  You're worried about the imagined Almyran threat.  But on the other side of the border is just another father who wants what's best for his son.

"So let's all just calm down, and discuss why we're here.  The Imperial Emperor is summoning representatives of the Alliance to Garreg Mach Monastery to move forward on a plan to unify Fodlan."

Suddenly, the door burst open to reveal the man of the hour.

"Claude, my boy!"  Nader the Undefeated stepped forward, flanked by Alois and Seteth, the former who smiled sheepishly.  "Tell me about this Hilda you won't stop mentioning!"

Jeralt's face dropped into his hands and groaned, as noise erupted.  Esmé rubbed his back as he geared up for another speech.

* * *

"Really?  You couldn't have come at a better time?"  Esmé pulled her head back from the hallway she almost walked down, but still pressed an ear out as she heard Judith start yelling at Nader.

"I sent a letter and everything!"  Nader complained, but it seemed Judith wasn't having it.

"Yes, one that was intercepted and was used to almost destabilize the Alliance!"

"Hey!"

"Listen, Nader, despite the fact that I stepped away from politics, people are calling for me to lead the Roundtable while Claude heads up to the Monastery. Can I trust you to - "

" - to look after him?  You didn't need to ask!"  Esmé heard Nader lean down and press a kiss to Judith's cheek, which earned him a chuckle.

"Don't push your luck, General."

"Hmph."

Esmé giggled as she backed away, content.

* * *

"Are you sure you can trust Alois to look after the kids?" Esmé turned to Jeralt as he helped her up onto Brutus before swinging himself into the saddle.

"I can't help that I'm worried about Byleth," he gripped the reins firmly, moving Brutus into a canter.  "Cornelia's words are still bothering me, and the slithery bastards probably still think we're traveling with the kids."

"I know.  How fast do you think we can get back to Enbarr?"

"Not quick enough.  This isn't over yet."  They rode hard and fast up and out of Derdriu, and on their way to their daughter, worry tracing their steps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That resolves this arc! We're gonna be focusing more on Byleth and Edelgard from here on out. Next chapter is where the fun starts.
> 
> Also from here on out instead of a new chapter, I might release a side chapter focusing on one of the side ships. It'll be it's own entry, so not in this fic, but still in this series. They're going to be ambiguous so that you can imagine them in either the Prim and Proper 'verse or in a mainline game 'verse. 
> 
> So far, I have ideas for this couples fics: dorothea/ferdinand, dimitri/ferdinand, claude/hilda, felix/annette, ignatz/flayn, and caspar/bernadetta. There will also be a surprise couple fic later! so look forward to that. If you have an idea for a couple that i don't have and have an idea, hit me up. The couples i don't have side fics for are sylvain/ingrid, dedue/mercedes, leonie/lorenz, petra/ashe, and cyril/lysithea.
> 
> I will admit this isn't my best chapter, but I needed to write it. Also, thanks to everyone who's contributed to this fic having over 10,000 hits and more than 550 kudos. It really does mean a lot.
> 
> Again, as always, please leave a kudos/comment if you enjoyed, especially if you enjoyed it. Thanks!


	12. Recovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the truth is revealed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: big spoilers up ahead. Like, major spoilers. If you haven't beaten 3h and know the truth about Byleth and why her mom has to die and don't want to be spoiled, i'd suggest stopping now. You've been warned!

Byleth brushed aside the child's hand and stretched, yawning.  "What...what happened?"

"You tell me," the child pouted, crossing her arms.  "And I'm not a child!"

"Are you reading my thoughts?"

"Uh, yeah?  We are connected you know."

"I don't."

"Oh.  I see..."  The...whatever frowned, contemplative.  "Regardless, I am Sothis."

"You mean the Progenitor God?"

"The one and only!"  Sothis bowed sardonically, and for a second Byleth could see her true form, a tall woman of elegance.  The illusion shimmered and she reverted back to her childish appearance.  "And you, my child...you've forgotten, haven't you?"

"Forgotten what?"

"Ugh, useless!  I see this new timeline has not improved your intellect!"

"Hey!" Byleth felt her temper rise, but she was almost stuck to the throne. 

"But your emotions..." Sothis reached out and rubbed Byleth's green hair, and smiled.  "I see now.  Without me there, deep down in your heart, you grew normally."

"I am so lost."  Byleth frowned and Sothis let out a small chuckle.  

"Of course you are.  Where should I start?"  Sothis waved a hand, and an image appeared before the two.

* * *

_A long time ago, or not that long ago really, Rhea tried to bring her mother back.  She implanted the Crest of Flames in various homonculi, but none manifested my power._

_What?  
_

_Shush.  Until one of them, your mother, fell in love with a knight of Seiros.  Your father.  He had a crest as well.  In that first timeline, when you were born, you were stillborn._

_Wait, what?_

_Stop interrupting!_

_Sorry, sorry._

_Anyway, your mother begged Rhea to implant the crest stone in your heart, at the cost of her life.  And so, your body was prepared to host me.  Your life went on and eventually you taught at Garreg Mach.  Events happened, we merged -_

_I'm so lost._

_Byleth!_

_Sorry, sorry.  Please, continue._

_Anyway, choosing a house to lead led to four timelines, and the fate of the continent was determined by your choices.  However, people always died.  Your connection with Edelgard especially, haunted you in timelines where you didn't ally with her.  In some of them, you had to kill her._

_Oh._

_However, you wanted your golden ending.  And you went back, and saved your mother, and you.  But this led to you never receiving my Crest._

* * *

The image faded and cleared, and Byleth shook her head.  "So, a lot changed?"

"Yes.  At this time period in the base timeline, there'd be a war.  Dimitri would be mad, Edelgard would have no options, and Claude would be holding onto peace.  But your mother...her being alive changed all of that.  However..."  Sothis trailed off.

"Me not disrupting Those who Slither's plans early enough has lead to more trouble," Byleth nodded, placing a hand on her heart.  "What are they going to do?"

"Nothing good.  Your parents' actions have delayed things, but I fear our trials are not over yet.  With your shenanigans, Those who Slither have started reaching to the other timelines and have been pulling resources to be successful here.  Monsters and men.  They will not stop until they have blotted out others who would steal the sun."

"Great.  Agh!"  Byleth cried and grasped her chest.  "What's wrong with me?"

"The experiments weren't Rhea's, and so..." Sothis placed a hand on Byleth's, and squeezed.  "We were never supposed to be re-merged.  All the timelines are converging.  You needed to sleep for five years soon after we merged, to fully understand our power.  And that's all catching up to you."

"So, I'll need to sleep for how long?"

"Hmm..." Sothis ticked a few fingers up.  "Carry the zero...a very, very long time."

"I don't have time for that!"  Byleth almost leapt up in shock but Sothis held her there.  "What the hell!"

"Hold!  It won't kick in right away.  We can do what we need to do here and stave it off, but we don't have much time."

"All...all right.  This is in my mind, right?"

"Yes."

"Where's my body?"

Sothis snapped her fingers and another image appeared of Edelgard carrying Byleth's body in a bridal carry, green hair knotted and tangled.  

"Oh.  Can we wake up soon?"

"Shush, listen to what she's saying!"  Sothis slapped Byleth's arm a few times.

* * *

"Please, please, please," Edelgard chanted as she carried Byleth down the winding halls of the palace.  "Goddess, please, if you don't bring her back to me..."  Where was this coming from?  She hadn't even spent much time with Byleth, and already she was so attached.  Was she that lonely and desperate?  Byleth groaned and twisted her head, a weak breath puffing from her lips.

"Your Majesty, are you sure you won't bring her to Linhardt?"  Hubert kept pace behind Edelgard, one of his steps matching two of Edelgard's.

"Shush, Hubert!"

"As you will."

Finally, they made it to Edelgard's chambers, where Thales waited for them, a smug grin on his face.  Edelgard's face soured as she slung Byleth into a fireman's carry and hurled a small axe at the man's face.  The grin disappeared as it clanked off an arcane barrier and the imitator disappeared into the shadows.  She barged into her room and she almost threw Byleth onto the bed, practically tearing her crown off to press an ear to Byleth's chest.

Ba-bump-bump.  Ba-bump-bump.

Two heartbeats.

Goddess, no.  No.  

"Unnh...Sothis?"  Byleth groaned out, and Edelgard gasped.

"Byleth!  You're alive!"  She crushed her into a hug and rubbed a hand through her hair.  "I was afraid you were dead."

"Not dead, just..." She opened her eyes and roved past Edelgard to Hubert.  They shared a nod and Hubert stepped out.  "I...I have the Crest of Flames.  I am - ugh!"  She gasped in pain and Edelgard lamented the fact that she didn't know faith magic.  She dashed to the side table and pulled out an elixir, handing it to Byleth.  She downed it eagerly and the scars and torture marks faded just a bit.  

"What's wrong?"

"I...I don't have much time left," Byleth gasped out and there was a pulse of energy.  Her hair turned a bit greener and it grew a fraction longer.  If Edelgard would have believed it, Byleth's ears got just the tiniest bit pointier.  "El...you have to listen to me."

"...El?  How do you know that name?"

"Well..."

* * *

"You took that rather well," Byleth huffed as she wrapped herself in a blanket, Edelgard shivering slightly.

"It's not everyday you hear your worst thoughts became reality in another timeline.  How long do you have?"

"As long as it takes to stop Those who Slither."

It was at this moment her mom and dad stormed into the room, and Edelgard took her leave.

"Byleth!"  Esmé ran up first and pulled Byleth into a hug, Jeralt not far behind.  

"Oh, kid, what happened to you..."  Jeralt pulled them into a hug, and let out a sigh.

"Well...basically I have the Crest of Flames and we need to stop Those who Slither before I fall into a thousand year sleep."  Byleth felt nervous as she said this, and didn't miss her mother's gaze.

"You didn't tell Edelgard you'd be falling asleep."

"No, I didn't.  She's lost so much, I couldn't..."

"It's all right, Byleth," Jeralt smiled.  "You'll be pleased to know we foiled the slithery bastards' plans in Faerghus and Leceister.  So they'll inevitably follow the kids, and strike next at Garreg Mach."

"Then we need to head out.  I need to stop them," Byleth stopped to cough, and her hair lengthened a bit more.  

"Are you sure?"  Esmé rubbed Byleth's arm, and recoiled at the heat.  "By, you're burning up!"

"Doesn't matter," Byleth shrugged the blanket off and her power ruffled, settling a bit more firmly.  She pressed her fingers into her eyes in pain, and when they opened they were just a bit slitted.  

"An Eisner always finished the job.  That's what you taught me, right?"

* * *

"We ship out tomorrow," Edelgard didn't look up as she heard Byleth enter their chambers, too busy writing a letter.

"I take it all of the slithery bastards are encroaching on Garreg Mach?"  Byleth took off her coat and prepared for bed.  

"Yes.  It makes the palace thankfully a lot quiet."

"Hey, El."

"Mm?"

"I...I want you to have this."  Edelgard turned around at this and saw Byleth with a ring in her hand.

"Is that..."

"It's my mother's.  She told me to give it to you.  I don't know how long I have - "

"Don't speak like that!"  Edelgard stood up, her hair spinning.  "Don't.  Please."

"In every timeline, in each iteration, it's always been you.  Maybe that's why I feel so close with you.  All those unfulfilled timelines piling up.  I'm sure you feel it as well."

"I do."

"Then..." Byleth dropped to one knee, and Edelgard gasped.  "Please, El.  Will you marry me?  Will you be mine?"

"Oh, Byleth..." Edelgard dropped to her knees as well, pulling Byleth into a kiss.  "Yes.  I will."  She pulled off her gloves, shaky as her scars flared in the dim candlelight.  They matched Byleth's now, she thought idly.  It was odd, she thought.  They always had that connection, but knowing the other timelines...

Byleth slid the ring onto her finger, and it glowed like a new dawn.  

"Byleth, it's beautiful.  Thank you.  I'll treasure it, always."

"Good.  Care to join me in bed?"

"I thought you'd never ask."

* * *

Byleth, Edelgard, Dimitri, and Claude stood at the Archbishop's perch overlooking Garreg Mach.  There in the background was an army, and it bore the Crest of Flames.  Byleth felt her heart beat in double-time, and so did Edelgard's.  A the front of the enemy army was a massive spectral dragon, akin to what scholars would call The Immaculate One.  Behind them strode other depictions of the Saints as found in illustrations.  And riding the dragon, was a man.  He bore a golden sword of bone, and Byleth and Edelgard heard his name.

"Nemesis."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hell yeah. We're in there now. A bit short but it's just some important plot stuff. you may have noticed a chapter count. We have three chapters left: the Big Plot Chapter, a happy feels-y chapter, and an epilogue. I'd like to give a big shoutout to Marisa for help with my dumb ideas.
> 
> Honestly, tying in my dumb au with canon was fun, but difficult at times. But we did it. I'll get mushy later. Let's try to get 15,000 hits before I finish this! 
> 
> As always, please leave a kudos/comment if you enjoyed, especially if you enjoyed it!
> 
> (Bobby? Did you travel into the past and create a whole new timeline?)


	13. Consensus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Final Battle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers for some final bosses. Also some graphic content and descriptions near the end.

The silence was palpable.  The tension was thick enough to cut with a knife.  Down in the distance Byleth could see all the individual troops, marching one by one.  She blinked hard, rubbing her eyes.  When she opened them a green-ish tinge covered her vision and she growled lowly.

"Well?  What's the plan?"  Claude spun an arrow, a wry grin on his face.  Dimitri nodded as Edelgard placed a hand on the small of her back.  

"Claude, take your forces to the back of the monastery, in case they try a sneak attack.  Take the church troops as well.  Dimitri, handle the front and the brunt of their forces.  When reinforcements come, Edelgard and I will make sure you can defeat whoever they send out first."  Byleth coughed at the end, and she felt her hair stretch out a bit longer.

"Is everything all right, Dame Eisner?"  Dimitri stepped up, concern on his features. 

"Not...not particularly," Byleth recovered, shaking her head.  She placed a hand on the hilt of her sword and gripped it firmly.  

 _How odd_ , Sothis's voice came as Dimitri and Claude scrambled away as Edelgard turned, expectant.   _It seems their transdimensional research was successful._

 _What do you mean?_ Byleth thought back (and that was a weird concept), as she descended the stairs towards the front of the monastery.  

 _The enemy generals are all what you'd consider the final hurdles in the prime timeline._ Sothis nodded, floating serenely next to Byleth.   _Prepare yourself, child - ah!_ She recoiled in pain and flickered out.

_Sothis?  Are you ok?_

Sothis didn't speak up after that.

"Is everything ok?"  Edelgard asked, curious.  

"I'll live," Byleth said dryly.  "Have my parents evacuated the citizens out of the monastery?"

"Yes, Byleth," Hubert materialized out of the shadows, nodding.  "They send their best.  You can trust that we'll be well-prepared for whatever Those who Slither will send our way."

"Good," Byleth shook her head, "this is going to be tough."

* * *

"Your Highness.  We are prepared as best we can."  Dedue bowed lightly as Dimitri crossed his arms, Areadhbar tingling on his back.  

"Good.  Has Ingrid reported back yet?"  He dipped his head as his good eye surveyed the marketplace of the monastery.

"Your Highness," Ingrid swooped in, jumping off her pegasus lightly.  

"Report."

"It seems there's a massive demonic beast leading the enemy troops heading our way.  Some have split up to head to the rear of the monastery."

"Claude will deal with those.  What kind of beast?"  Dimitri drew his lance, cradling the butt in the dust.  

"It...it looked like the Emperor."

"What do you mean?"

"Like a twisted, demonic form.  I can't describe it well."  Ingrid shivered.  

"Well, it seems we have no choice," Dimitri nodded firmly, before turning to Dedue.  "Do Gilbert and Sylvain have the cavalry prepared?"

"Yes.  They ride on your command."

"Good.  Keep Annette and Mercedes in the back and tell them to focus on healing."

"Well, your boarness?"  Felix drawled as he stepped forward, shield glowing on his back as he gripped the pommel of his sword.  "You know I hate waiting."

"Peace, Felix," Dimitri consoled, still focused on the enemy force.  "Shall we go greet them?"  He smiled, a toothy grin.

"What do you mean?"

"Dedue, Felix, with me," Dimitri started walking forward, lance at the ready.  "How about we present a nice, unified front to show them, before we sweep in?"

"You know Gilbert's going to kill you," Felix growled, hand clenching and releasing on his sword.  "If I or the enemy doesn't first."

Dimitri barked a short laugh.  "You never change, Felix."

"Shut up."

"Quiet.  They approach," Dedue braced his axe against his shoulder, drawing his shield in a smooth motion.

* * *

"Hilda, are our surprise troops ready?"  Claude asked as he patted his wyvern's nose.  Failnaught tingled will purpose, eager to be used.

"Yeah yeah, leader man," Hilda huffed, crossing her arms.  "Ignatz and Leonie have the archers prepped and Lysithea and Lorenz have our mages ready.  Marianne is coordinating the church healers as well."

"I'm surprised you're so on top of things, Hilda," Claude teased, turning to flash a brief smile.  "I've never seen you so determined before."

"Well..." Hilda trailed off, blushing.  It faded quickly, replaced by mock anger.  "Well, I can't have my dear Claude do something stupid and die!"

Claude laughed.  "Oh, Hilda.  I'm not dying yet."

"Claude, you'll want to hear this," Lorenz stormed up, hooves stomping into the dirt.

"What is it?"

"The number of troops we're facing...is fourteen."

"Fourteen?" Claude parroted.  "That's it?"

"Well..." Lorenz pointed.  Ten figures approached, a mix of infantry and cavalry with flier.  Failnaught glowed brightly and Hilda's Freikugel did the same.  Behind the enemy were four hulking beasts, and he idly recognized them.  He felt a pull through his crest towards one of the cavalry, and spotted a familiar bow.

"You're telling me we have to fight the 10 Elites and the Four Saints?  Talk about a challenge!"  Claude let out a small chuckle and Lorenz and Hilda looked at him quizzically.  "Tell Seteth to gather his fliers at the top of the monastery to swoop in.  Last thing I want to do is fight these things at close range."

"I don't think we'll have a choice!"  Hilda shouted as the Elites picked up speed and the Saints raised their heads, energy gathering in their mouths.

"Evasive action!"  Claude shouted as he scrambled onto the saddle, pulling Hilda up with him.  "Lorenz, get the Knights down here as fast as you can!"  

With that, he lifted off, into the battle.

* * *

"Dimitri...DIMITRI!" The husk shouted as its arms dragged along behind it.  Mysterious troops poured into the marketplace, waiting.  Dimitri took it as a good sign and stepped forward, Felix's arm shooting out to hold him back.

"El...what happened to you?"

"This isn't the real Emperor, Dimitri!"  Felix shouted.  "She's still inside.  We need to focus on stopping this here and now!"

"You're right," Dimitri breathed out.  "But I wonder...what happened to make us stand on opposite sides."

"You...where is...the professor?" The husk looked sad, Dimitri thought, before its eyes hardened.  It lifted those arms of hers and fire began growing in the palms.  "WHERE IS SHE!?"  The husk screeched, and the fires grew.

"Your Highness!"  Dedue pulled Dimitri back and planted his shield, grunting as the fireballs impacted.  "EVERYONE, NOW!"  He shouted, dragging Dimitri back as Felix drew his blade.  The sound of hooves and armor grew louder and louder as Gilbert and Sylvain arrived, cavalry in tow.  With a fierce yell, they charged, trampling over the troops and weapons digging into the husk.  Fireballs and bolts of lightning flew from the back of the marketplace as their mages got to work as the enemy fell into confusion.  

However, the mockery of Edelgard still stared him down, intent.  The hair on the back of his neck prickled and he darted right, a pillar of flame bursting from the ground.  He dove forward into a roll, another pillar popping from where his feet were.  He dusted himself off with a sigh and brandished his Relic, glowing bright red.  

"Edelgard..." He started walking forward, through the chaos.  Thankfully, Felix and Dedue and Gilbert were too busy to see him do something that was probably very foolish.  He brought his crest to bear and his strength amplified, the cobblestone cracking beneath his power.  "I am sorry.  I am sorry about whatever happened.  But to see this through, I must do what I must!"  He picked up speed, charging forward, teeth bared.  

Edelgard slammed one of her arms down, a wing sweeping over it.  He leapt over it nimbly, using the wing as a stepping stone to leap higher.  A memory came to pass - him and his father and Edelgard and Patricia, a family at one point.  It disappeared in a moment and he fell, like a shooting star.  Areadbhar carved a brutal gash down her front, and the black material faded and dissolved quickly.  Steam rose from his body as he cooled down, breathing deeply.  And there, on her knees, was Edelgard.

"Teacher...is that you?  My teacher..." Dimitri dropped his lance and cradled his sister. 

"Edelgard, I am sorry."

"Dimitri?  Please, forgive me..."  His arms closed around nothing as she faded into dust, swept along in the winds of combat.  He looked up, shaking away a loose tear.  Dimitri heard the soft sound of Ingrid descending, and he turned his head.

"Ingrid, let Edelgard know we're almost done here."

"Of course, Your Highness."

* * *

"Brother, are you all right?"  Seteth startled at this as Flayn stepped forward, nervous.  

"I am fine, Flayn.  Just...unused to seeing myself.  An interesting event, no?"

"I'd find more humor if we weren't fighting for our lives, Seteth." 

"Quite true.  Just stay safe, Flayn."  He gripped his lance resolutely and drew Flayn into a hug.

"Oh, my lovely daughter..." He whispered, eyes closed.  "Please, don't do anything foolish."

"Of course, father."

They separated and Seteth leapt onto his wyvern and sailed down, a brigade of dragons behind him.  How odd, he thought.  Here, at Garreg Mach, against the 10 Elites.  How very odd.

* * *

"Hells!"  Claude cursed, jumping behind a crumbling wall, Hilda sliding up next to him.  He had no idea where his wyvern was, but he hoped she was safe.  While the Knights were dealing with the Saints, he and his friends were dealing with the Elites.  "Where's our support?"

"Marianne said they're giving it all they've got!" Hilda shouted back over the din of battle.

"Well, we just need to hold on for just a bit longer!"

"You have another plan up your sleeve?"  Hilda ducked her head, a piece of the wall falling loose and crumbling from a powerful arrow.  Claude aimed and fired, hardly looking.  

"I always have back-up plans," He winked and Hilda rolled her eyes.  Until, she caught sight of something.

"Really, Claude?  The same plan, again?"

"What?"  He stood up and fired swiftly, and he could swear the bow was happy at being used.  "It's a classic!"

From the distance, they heard a distant call.

"HEY, KID!  HOW'D YOU END UP IN THIS ONE!  ALMYRANS, CHARGE!"  A cloud formed overhead, a swarm of wyverns as a mass of cavaliers charged over the plains.  Unimpeded the Elites were swept away, caught under the trampling hooves.  The flier tried escaping but Nader himself descended, axe in hand, and with two swipes - 

They fell.  

Claude charged forward, where his weapon's counterpart called to him and he stopped right at the bow knight's feet.

"So...you must be Riegan, huh?"  

The copy just stared, and reached for its bow.  Claude drew, aimed, and fired, Failnaught sighing in relief.  

"Sorry I'm late, kid," Nader descended, Claude's own wyvern in tow.  "Your mom wanted to talk to me before I got here."

"Don't blame this on Judith, now," Claude chuckled, wiping a hand on his forehead.  "I'm just happy you came when you did."

* * *

Edelgard stared up at the Immaculate One, and she could feel it and Nemesis staring down at her.  She felt her Crest of Flames pulse as Nemesis used the Sword of the Creator almost as a leash, controlling the dragon.  Byleth stepped up and grinned at Edelgard, who frowned.  What was she going to do?  Hubert and Ferdinand were busy leading the rest of the Adrestians against Agarthan soldiers, but it was the two of them against...this.  Byleth cried out in pain and tumbled to her knees, Edelgard dropping her axe to prop Byleth up.  

Byleth screamed, and it haunted her to her very bones.  There was a flash of light from Byleth's eyes and the Immaculate One froze.  In a blink, Byleth stood, drew her sword, and cut.  A moment passed, two.

"Is that all, fool?"  Nemesis grunted, until he fell.  The Immaculate One's head fell a moment later, ichor pooling around them.  Nemesis slid off nimbly and Edelgard palmed her axe tightly.

"How's that?" Byleth said before groaning, her hair turning a shade greener.  "We're here to stop you, Nemesis.  Once and for all."

"Just you two?  It took armies to slay me!"

"And yet Seiros still took you out by herself," Edelgard drawled, her and Byleth stepping forward as one.  The Sword of the Creator thrashed in his hand, its crest stone blazing brightly.

"You...you two carry her crest.  And mine, as well.  It won't save you," Nemesis nodded, walking forward slowly.  

"We can do nothing but try!"  Byleth shouted and charged, blade low near the ground.  She swung up and Nemesis leaned back slightly, grazing his beard.  He blocked Edelgard's swipe and punched twice with his off hand, impacting her shield.  She tossed the implement aside a moment later, two large imprints in the treated metal.  Nemesis reared back and swung in a large arc, his sword segmenting into a large arc as Byleth jumped over it, Edelgard ducking under.  They charged together, sword and axe as one.  He blocked both attacks on his blade and snarled, kicking Byleth's legs from under her.  He propelled her into Edelgard and they flew off a few feet, landing in a clump.

"We're doing nothing and he's toying with us!"  Edelgard growled as she used her axe to stand up.  Byleth breathed heavily as she stood and settled into a ready position, eager for more.

"Come on, Edelgard.  Together, I think - " She was cut off as Nemesis charged, and there was a sharp, wet noise as the Sword of the Creator rammed itself through Byleth's chest.

"BYLETH!" Edelgard shouted, and that was the last Byleth heard before everything went black.

* * *

_"I see you've done it again!" Sothis fumed as she sat on her throne, annoyed.  "You just - "_

_"Hey!"  Byleth angrily pointed, "I did my best!  It's not like I'm fighting the King of Liberation or anything!"_

_"I'll give you that.  Actually, we can use this..." Sothis trailed off.  "If nothing else, this has been rather enjoyable."_

_"What do you mean?"_

_"Good night, my child."_

* * *

"No...no!" Edelgard shouted, charging forward.  "I'LL KILL YOU!"  However, she stopped.  Nemesis was frozen in place, trying to tug out the Sword of the Creator.  But he had stabbed Byleth through the heart...probably exactly where Those who Slither had implanted the Crest of Flames.  The Sword glowed brightly, a rainbow of colors as it flew out of Nemesis's hands and coiled itself around Byleth, laying along her spine.  

"Nemesis."  Byleth stood tall and proud, her wound gone.  For a moment Edelgard thought she saw the Goddess Herself, tall and draconic, before it faded.  Byleth's figure flared with power and she was adorned in braids and bright green hair.  Chains wrapped around her, tying the pieces of the Sword of the Creator to her body, and she walked forward barefoot.  

"You have abused my power and my body, and have tainted this world."  Byleth raised a hand, fingers poised.  "Revenge!  It lives!"  She snapped her fingers and Edelgard could swear the world shook.  

"No...no!  Damn you!"  Nemesis cursed as he looked at his hands, swiftly dissolving into the air.  "Damn you, Sothis!  Damn you, SEIROS!  I WILL RETURN, AND EXACT MY REVENGE!"

"But not now."  

Nemesis looked up as Byleth charged, a sword of bone in her hands.  Once, twice, she slashed.  Then, she stabbed in a lunge.  At the end of the blade lay Nemesis's Crest of Flames and it beat once, twice, before it shattered.  Then, too, did Nemesis disappear for good.

"Byleth...?"  Edelgard stepped forward tentatively, a hand outstretched.  Byleth turned to smile, before collapsing.  Edelgard ran over.

"No, no, no..." She pressed her head to Byleth's chest, looking for a heartbeat.  Please, goddess, she prayed.  Please let her be alive.

And when Byleth opened her eyes a bright, shimmering green, Edelgard brought her into a swift kiss.  A crowd gathered of everyone who fought, bloodied and dirtied but very much alive.

They had won.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Surely nothing's wrong with Byleth absorbing all that power, right! haha...hah...anyway. we've got two more chapters left in this. I was going to write all the side chapters pretty soon, but those will be delayed for a while. I need to take break from romance, so. Sorry. 
> 
> Anyway, I'd like to thank everyone who reads this and leaves comments and kudos (and this is where i say to please leave some). I'm sure some of you haven't liked where this has gone, but I hope you enjoy the parts you like. I honestly had a hard part starting this chapter. This is the end of, as of now, my most popular work. We've got a wedding and then the epilogue, and...I don't know, guys. 
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed the combat in this fic since that's it for combat and fighting. I'll prob go back and add more later, but please, enjoy. 
> 
> Big shoutout to Marisa who's been helping me with this. 
> 
> Thank you, the fans.
> 
> We're almost over.


	14. Happily Ever After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our leading ladies get their happy ending.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Or do they?

"You know, Edie, I thought that your Imperial Wedding would be a bigger affair," Dorothea murmured as she layered Edelgard's hair elegantly, twisting her buns into her familiar hairstyle.  "But I understand wanting a smaller occasion."  

"Jealous?"  Edelgard leaned back slightly to smirk at Dorothea, but she waved it off with a scoff.  "I'm sure yours will be a grand event."

"Is it funny that Ferdinand's more worried than I am?"

"Probably."  Edelgard chuckled lightly, content.  They were silent for a bit, enjoying each others' company.

"Well, you're all set.  Now we just wait for Dimitri to show up and walk you down the aisle.  Do you want a drink, Edie?"  Dorothea took a sip of sparkling wine, sighing contently.  

"You know I'm not one for alcohol, Dorothea."

"Your loss."

There was a swift rat-tat-tat at the door and Dorothea smoothed out her gown, opening the door to reveal a dour Minister of the Interior.

"Hello, Hubie."

"Dorothea.  Is Her Majesty ready?"  Hubert bowed lightly, looking extremely uncomfortable in his formal robes.  

"She's ready as she'll ever be," Dorothea snickered and Edelgard could swear she saw Hubert's mouth lift in a smirk.  

"Good.  His Highness Blaiddyd is ready."

"All right.  On we go."  Edelgard stood up, brushing back her hair in a familiar gesture.  

"Getting cold feet, Edie?"  Dorothea had a catlike smile on her face.

"I didn't appreciate your words back then and I don't appreciate them now, Dorothea."

"You know you love it."

Edelgard gave Dorothea a look, and the songstress smothered a giggle.  Hubert kept the door opened and gestured to the hallway where the rest of her Eagles were at attention.

"Congratulations, Your Majesty," Linhardt said, surprisingly awake for once.

"Yes, congratulations!"  Bernadetta rushed, tugging urgently on Caspar's arm.  "Come on, Caspar, wish her good luck."

"Nice going, Edelgard," Caspar gave a lazy salute, and laughed heartily.

"Caspar, show some respect!"  Ferdinand snapped out, straightening his cravat.  "Congratulations and best wishes, Edelgard."

"Best wishes, Edelgard," Petra bowed slightly, a wide grin on her face.  "You are deserving of a happy ending."

"Thank you, all of you," Edelgard smiled, wiping at her eye idly.  Was she crying?  Of course not.  Simply...

"All right, everyone get to your seats," Dimitri crossed his arms, mock anger on his face.  Her Eagles scattered, Dorothea tossing a sly wink her way.  

"Well, brother.  Here we are."

"Sister."  Dimitri extended an elbow and Edelgard slid her arm through it.

"I forgot how tall you were."

"I forgot how short you were."

"Us Arundels make up for our lack of height with intelligence and superior strength."  

"How could I forget?  Still, I remember back in the day when you were taller than I."

"My one moment of superior height, I will give you that.  Your one victory over me."  Edelgard tossed her hair back with a flick.

"And you're getting married before me.  I will not say I am not jealous!"

"Oh?  Already have plans to propose, Dimitri?"

"Hah!  That's for me to know and you to find out, El."

"Keep your secrets."  Edelgard stopped talking as the band started to play, and the great double doors opened.

"Shall we, El?"

"We shall."  Edelgard squeezed his arm a bit tighter, and they stepped out, together.

* * *

Dorothea was right, it was an admittedly small affair for a royal wedding.  It was mostly the people of their class at Garreg Mach, plus some of Jeralt's mercenaries and a few Knights of Seiros, notably led by a teary-eyed Alois.  Esmé would occasionally pass him her handkerchief for him to loudly honk into, which amused Edelgard.  What was not surprising were the absences.  Archbishop Rhea hadn't been heard from since the assault on the Monastery, from which she had been notably absent from, and Seteth had vanished shortly after as well.  

But there was Claude and the Golden Deer, a small grouping of Almyrans behind him, clearly aching for the bar to open.  And there was the rest of the Blue Lions, smiling fondly.  

And across the pavilion at the other end was Byleth in white, arm-in-arm with her father.  Edelgard's breath stopped in her throat as she saw her bride-to-be, long green hair threaded with lilies and flowers, train flowing behind her.  She was beautiful, and Dimitri squeezed her arm consolingly.  As one, the two women approached the altar and their escorts retreated, moving to their seats, Linhardt with a small smile as he stood on the podium.

"I'm sure there are traditional words here such as 'we are gathered here today', but I'm lazy."  Linhardt opened a book on the podium as small chuckles echoed through the pavilion.  "We're here to celebrate the joining of Edelgard Von Hresvelg and Byleth Eisner in matrimony, and blah blah blah," Linhardt flipped through the pages before closing it.  

"I've always thought it was more effective to make something up and have it come from the heart rather than rehearse something from a book," Linhardt reached down and grabbed Edelgard and Byleth's hands, taking a cord and looping it around their wrists.  "At least, that's what I told my professors to get away with not doing an assignment."

Some more chuckles as Edelgard squeezed Byleth's fingers, and they smiled.

"Anyway.  Let's just get this over with before I fall asleep or before Hubert kills me, whichever comes first.  According to a book I read a long time ago, when two people would get married they would symbolically tie themselves together.  Hence, the rope cord.

"You promise each other to stay by the other no matter what, come what may.  In sickness and health, come the day the Goddess returns to this world."

Byleth let a small chuckle at that, and Edelgard's brow furrowed.  Even after a few days, was her hair even greener?

"This is a binding contract.  Reminiscent of when Saint Seiros bound her bloodline to Wilhelm, you are entwining your destinies together.  As such, and because of Edelgard's Imperial Impeccability, we are asking Petra Macneary to witness this."  Petra rose from her seat and strode confidently towards the altar, squeezing Edelgard's shoulder as she passed.  Linhardt turned and pulled out a small scroll, keeping one hand on the rope cord binding Edelgard and Byleth.

"But first, the vows.  If either of you would like to say anything before we put pen to parchment, now is your time.  If the rings could be brought forward."  At this, Dorothea stepped up and handed the rings to Linhardt.

Edelgard cleared her throat.  "Well...Byleth.  Ever since you came into my life you have changed it irrevocably, and for the better.  When I first saw you at the tournament, I felt something.  And now we're here.  I promise to always be by your side to make our dreams a reality in this ever-changing world.  I need you by my side.  I love you.  I think I always have.  Thank you for making me the happiest woman in the world."  Edelgard sniffed and wiped away a few tears, Byleth squeezing her fingers tightly.  She held her hand out to Dorothea, who placed a ring in her hand.

"This ring is a promise, Byleth.  To stay by your side forevermore, as a symbol of our love.  Please, take it."  She slid it onto Byleth's ring finger, and it fit perfectly.

Byleth coughed.  "El," She bit her lip, heaving a shaky breath.  "I love you.  I'm not one for flowery words or promises.  But I promise to love you until the end of time and help you realize your ambitions."  Byleth pulled off Edelgard's glove and caressed one of the scars before sliding a ring onto her finger.  Edelgard heaved another tearful sob.

"Now that the vows and rings have been exchanged, we can move on," Linhardt smiled, covering his mouth for a brief yawn.  "As I said, this is a binding contract, and a political move as well.  As such, we will now sign the vows.  Queen Petra, do you recognize the validity of this marriage?"

"I do," Petra smiled widely, and Linhardt nodded.  He unrolled the parchment on the podium and beckoned her over, and she scrawled her name briskly, heading for her seat.  

"Good, we're moving right along.  I know we all have better things to do," Linhardt snarked, and Jeralt let out a sharp laugh.  He quieted as Esmé gave him a sharp smack. 

"Now if our leading ladies could sign the contract," He turned the paper around and laid the quill pen beside it, their writing quickly gracing the page.

"Excellent.  I now pronounce you married.  I imagine the typical phrase is 'you may now kiss the bride', but - "

Byleth pulled Edelgard into a sweeping kiss, and Edelgard's heart melted with love.  This was joy.  This was happiness.  And as they pulled away, faces flushed, the world became gray, and time seemed to stop.  Byleth stepped back and seemed to float into the air, her wedding gown transitioning into a mesh of blues and purples, the Crest of Flames embroidered over her stomach.  Her hair flashed a vibrant green, and chains wrapped around her arms as the Sword of the Creator appeared in her hands.  Braids grew from her temples as she floated in place, and Edelgard gasped.

* * *

"Who are you?  What's going on?"

"I am the Reconstructor," Byleth said, and her voice echoed amongst thousands.  "I am the fusion of she you knew as the Goddess and Byleth."

"I don't understand," Edelgard rushed over to grab her hands, but they phased right through.  "What do you mean?"

"Surely Byleth told you about the other timelines."

"She did, but I don't see what this has to do with anything - "

"I am the desire to see this world happy and safe, with no one dead," the Reconstructor interrupted, smiling lightly.  "Over a thousand years spent in trying to find this happy ending, I must now pay the price and reluctantly leave the rest to you and the others."

"What do you mean?"

"Those Who Slither are still out there, plotting.  You must stop them."

"But surely we can do it together?"

"Alas, I cannot," the Reconstructor looked wistful, "as recompense for the energy used, I must sleep for one thousand years."

"A thousand years?  No, I won't let you!"

"Please, Edelgard," the Reconstructor moved closer and placed a finger on Edelgard's forehead.  And she  _saw_.  In a moment she saw what Byleth had described as the 'prime timeline', and all the pain and suffering Byleth went through, and how she and Byleth had fallen in love, and all the pain - 

She gasped.

"Is this true?  Is this why we are connected?" Edelgard stammered out.

"Yes.  We've fallen in love countless times."

"So is our romance real?  Or just...leakage?"

"No, Edelgard," the Reconstructor traced her chin tenderly, "it is real.  Everything I feel for you is real.  But I will leave you with two gifts."

"What do you mean?"  

The Reconstructor placed a hand on Byleth's stomach and she felt something  _twist_.  "I know what you and Byleth talked about.  About your future.  About...children."  The Reconstructor appeared bashful, and Edelgard found that sweet in some way.  "Consider this a gift.  Something to remember me by."

"I don't want a child to remember you by!"  Edelgard shouted, tearful.  "I want to spend the rest of my life with you!  Not for you to sleep for a thousand years!  I want to wake up by your side every morning, I want to grow old with you!  Don't do this to me, Byleth!"

"Our daughter will be blessed, though.  She'll have our crests and won't have to go through the pain of what we did."

"I don't want that!"  Edelgard was sobbing, the Reconstructor somehow folding her into their arms.  "I don't want to look at our daughter and see you!  I...I don't..."

"I'm sorry, Edelgard.  But I'll still be able to wake once every five years, on our daughter's birthday."

"That won't make it better, Byleth."

"I'm not Byleth, Edelgard.  I am the - "

"Don't!"  Edelgard slammed a fist on the Reconstructor's chest.  "Don't talk about yourself like that."

"Edelgard..."  The Reconstructor stepped back and floated back into the air, shimmering in the afternoon air.  "I'll see you in nine months, with our daughter.  I love you."

"BYLETH!" Edelgard reached for her and world sped up, color returning, as Byleth collapsed to the ground.  The audience gasped as they stood, Edelgard kneeling to hold Byleth.

She was cold, cold as ice.

Except for her ring, which was still warm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...  
> I'm sorry.  
> So, some explanations. I had this planned ever since chapter 8 or so and hopefully the plot points line up. Basically Byleth has to pay the price and sleep for a hot minute. I originally planned to have the sequel fic included in this, which focuses on Edeleth daughter and friends in Garreg Mach, but that will be a separate fic and not for a while. Next chapter is the epilogue. I'll also in a while have the side fic with all the side couples and some of those interactions.   
> I'll give my final thoughts on this fic and all my thanks and everything next chapter. 
> 
> Thanks to everyone who's read this and left kudos/comments. Please leave more, they really mean a lot!


	15. Epilogue - The Color of One Thousand Sunrises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A girl has a dream, and another dreamer wakes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> buckle up kiddos. Some spoilers for two green-haired 3h people who are really bad at hiding their identities.

_A girl looks around her.  It's like she's in a deep, black void, but there in front of her is a stone staircase and a stone throne at the top.  There, a being sleeps, lying on one of the arms of the chair.  She bounds up the stairs quickly, the tap-tap of bare feet on marble.  She reaches the top, out of breath, and looks.  The being has long green hair, and the girl guesses that it's longer than they are tall. They're wrapped in chains and silks, large golden jewelry and bright gemstones adorn their limbs.  The goddess?  The being yawns and reaches up, stretching.  Their braids move with them, like an echo._

_What are you, the girl thinks._

_"Me?" The being asks, and the girl recoils.  "What are you?"_

_A ghost?  A demon?  The girl frowns and the being laughs._

_"A mortal, I see.  I am...hm.  You'll see soon enough."_

_I recognize you, the girl tries to say, but nothing comes out._

_"Oh?  Do you?"  The being rests their elbows on their knees, adopting a catlike grin._

_Yes.  From the murals in the old Enbarr palace._

_"Ah.  Let me see your crest, girl."_

_What do you mean?  Crests have died out._

_"Imagine the symbol of your power in the palm of your hand."_

_Shit!  A strange emblem emerges from their palm, arcing lines and the smell of a bonfire._

_"The Crest of Flames, the Fire Emblem.  So you're one of Edelgard's descendants."_

_Emperor Edelgard's been dead for almost -_

_"I know."  The being smiles sadly, and the girl's heart hurts. "Nevertheless, I am - "  The next part is cut off, like static.  The being scrunches her nose in a childish gesture, and the girl laughs silently.  "Very funny."_

_The being's smile relaxes and they recline back in their throne, letting out another yawn.  "Goodness, I am tired.  But I have a feeling I'll see you soon."_

_Wait what -_

_The color fades, and then the sharp lines fade, until there is n o t_ h i n g

* * *

Byleth - or, the Reconstructor, as they should be called - wakes up.  She takes a deep sniff, lets the world flow around her.  She - or they, it's hard to differentiate where the person known as Byleth Eisner begins and the being known as the Reconstructor ends - looks around.  It looks like the holy tomb under Garreg Mach, but they know they're in Enbarr, now.  The power of the Progenitor God flows through their very veins and essence as she steps down from the stone slab, stretching absent-mindedly.  

She remembers things, distantly.  Like looking through a foggy mirror, like how one perceives a dream.  When she first entered the sleep, they would wake once every five years.  She recalls Edelgard's daughter (what was her name?) growing up and up, but after she passed, the Reconstructor took more and more time.  Five years became ten, became twenty, became one hundred, until she spent the last five hundred years sleeping.

Fódlan has changed, Byleth thinks.  She descends from the altar, and Commands her hair to float above the floor.  It wouldn't do to have her hair get dirty so quickly, in it's long trains.  The Reconstructor wishes she could pull her alternate form's excessive energy and drive in her current appearance, but even now she feels bed calling to her.

Sleep...

 _"I'll hold your hand no more!  Get up!"_ Sothis' voice calls like a memory from a distant path, and the Reconstructor hides a laugh behind her hand.  The great stone door opens and they gather themselves.

* * *

Ostensibly, the girl knows who she is.  According to the United Nation of Fódlan's recent census she is Esther Adler Hresvelg, and can claim the Emperor Edelgard as her ancestor.  She knows she's supposed to be studying for a calculus exam, but after the dream she had last night, she was called here.  The train to Old Enbarr wasn't too bad, only an hour or so, even at three in the morning.  She idly checked her watch, fidgeting.  She pulls her light-brown hair into a ponytail, nervy.  The nuns of the Old Palace had been expecting her, somehow.  Esther lifts her hand and the Crest of Flames appears, and she frowns.  Supposedly Crests had died off hundreds of years ago, around the time the three major nations of Fódlan had unified.

"Blood of the Goddess, are you ready?"  One of the attendants steps forward and bows, Esther waving her arms in front of her.

"I'm not sure about that.  I'm just a college kid, even if - "

"You are here, as was ordained," the nun smiles.  "One thousand years have passed, and as decreed the Reconstructor will wake.  It is only fitting one of their children will meet them."

Esther's eyes narrow in thought, and a spark comes to her.  "You're Flayn, aren't you?"

"Perceptive as ever, Edelgard."

"My name is Esther."

"You share the same soul as your ancestor," Flayn, or Cethleann, or whatever she calls herself smiles.  "It's been a very long time."

A thought comes to Esther.  "You finally grew."

Flayn chuckles.  "To my father's never-ending worry."

"Where is Cichol?"  Esther claps her hands over her mouth a moment later.  "How do I know this?"

"He's going to help the Reconstructor.  Also, the Crests carry certain biological markers and encoded memories in their DNA.  And since you have the Progenitor God's Crest, you have access to certain memories.  But goodness, you don't know how to fight at all, do you?"  Flayn pokes at Esther's arm.

"Why would I?  Swords haven't been used in hundreds of years."

* * *

The Reconstructor rubs their eyes, and there - 

"Hello, mother," Cichol bows, and wipes his eyes.

"You know I'm not your mother.  But goodness, you've gone grey, Seteth."

He lets out a burst of laughter and settles himself.  "I see you haven't aged a day."

They shrug, "it happens sometimes.  But you look well.  Where's Cethleann?"

Cichol extends a hand and she takes it, rubbing his calluses.  "She's waiting with your descendant."

"Oh.  Come here, child."  They open their arms and fold Seteth into their arms.  He still has a good head on her.  She steps back and places a hand on his chin, tracing his beard, and he closes his eyes.

"Thank you for waiting, my son."

"I was honored.  Shall we meet your great-great-great-great - "

"Cichol, I swear - "

* * *

Esther and Flayn freeze as the great doors open.  Something in her brain twists and her Crest flares into being in front of her, and the two individuals who come through the door gape.  One's a greying man, but the other is - 

"You're the person from my dream," Esther breathes out as she steps forward in time with the being.  "You're the Reconstructor, aren't you?"

"Yes," they smile.  "Hello, Edelgard."

"I'm not her," Esther looks down, her brow furrowing.  "I wish I was."

"Child - "

"I wish I was her so that you could reunite with the love of your life," Esther doesn't know when she's started crying, but - 

"I - I wish that after a thousand years you could see her or read her message, but it's all been lost to time.  I am sorry - " Esther stops as the Reconstructor pulls her into a fierce hug.

"It's not your fault," They stroke her hair as Esther sobs into their shoulder.  "It was never your fault, my dear child.  Thank you for welcoming me back into this world."

"Goddess, I'm sorry - "

"And the Goddess forgives you," The Reconstructor chuckles and pulls back, wiping her tears away.  "I forgive you, Esther."

"H-how do you know my name?"

"There is not much I do not know in this state."

"Right," Esther said, shakily.  "You are the literal Goddess, after all."

"Indeed."

The conversation lulls, and as one they turn to the window where dawn is rising.  Looking out over the vast plains east of Enbarr, pinks and golds spread across the sky.  The Reconstructor waves her hand and the window opens and they dart over, bracing against the windowsill.  

"The color of sunrise," Esther hears them muse.  "I've missed it, after a thousand years."

Esther steps closer and the Reconstructor extends a hand.  She takes it, nervous, but they're warm, so warm.  She swallows thickly, and the Reconstructor smiles, squeezing her hand.

"C-can I call you grandma?"

"Of course, child.  Now, can you take your old grandmother out on a tour?  There's plenty I've missed during my rest."

"Sure!  Actually, we might need you to change."

"What's wrong with my outfit?"  The Reconstructor frowned and fidgeted with one of their braids.

"Well..."

* * *

_Edelgard, wherever you are..._

_I'm so happy to see the world you've created.  I will love you, always and forever, until the stars in the sky twinkle out and the universe grows cold._

_I hope you can see me, and your descendant, and smile with pride._

_I am sorry that we could not spend more time together.  But know that everything I did, I did for you._

_Yours, always and forever -_

_Byleth Eisner_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. Here we are. When i first started this fic, i had no idea it would get this popular. Close to 12k views, over 100 kudos and so many bookmarks and subsciptions. As i said earlier, I had plans on including the sequel fic after this, but i'm taking a break from fe and some romantic works for a while. 
> 
> Next in the list is a reworking of persona 5 royal, so expect that next week. But honestly, I had no idea this would get so popular. I had no idea having the mom be alive would change so much, but i'm so happy to see how this has progressed. If you would like to write or draw anything from the Prim and Proper universe, please do so. 
> 
> This fic means a lot to me. As I say a lot, I write what I like to read, and seeing so many people engage with it makes me so, so happy. I hope this fic has given you a lot of enjoyment, and without your support, it wouldn't be here.
> 
> I'd also like to thank Marisa, who's been supporting me and helping me with my ideas, and cheerfully roasting me whenever I write something angsty or sad. My writing wouldn't be the same without her. 
> 
> And now, for one last time on this fic: If you liked this, please leave a kudos/comment if you enjoyed it, especially if you've already left one.
> 
> I love all of you for helping turn this weird brainchild fic of mine into one of my favorite universes to play around in.
> 
> Thank you.
> 
> RM, out.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoy it! As always if you liked it please leave a kudos/comment!


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